


The Definite Truth

by Aristeia



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst and Porn, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gen, M/M, Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-13 11:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4520358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aristeia/pseuds/Aristeia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the moment they met, Olivier Hawke is infatuated with Fenris. Broody and mysterious, something about him immediately catches her attention. But Fenris insists on avoiding her and Hawke, stubborn and strong-willed, refuses to let his past dictate his future.</p><p>Things get complicated when Danarius shows up, and Hawke unwittingly stumbles into the dark secrets revolving around Fenris' past life and family...</p><p>WARNING: Rated for smut, rape, and torture/strong sexual elements. There are hints of DanariusxFenris in the past, and some non-con situations.</p><p>*Chapters containing smut will be properly noted with the pairings in parentheses in the chapter title.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmares (Danarius x Fenris)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris has a nightmare of his past, and recounts his last night with Hawke.

_"Get up, you useless, slant-eared mongrel!"_

Hadriana's voice resonated in the cellar and pierced his ears like poison.

Before he could even react to the cell doors being opened, an unpleasant wave of icy cold water came pouring down his skull, making his head throb uncontrollably.

He instinctively tried to shield himself but the sound of metal chains tugging at his wrists reminded him that he was bound to the stone wall.

He had forgotten about the previous nights' transgressions - and the punishment that had yet to come.

"Well? Didn't you hear me? Get up!" Hadriana slapped him across the face, hard,  shrieking like the cruel banshee she was. "The master wants to see you immediately! _Hurry up!_ "

She motioned towards the two guards to let him loose of his bindings, and looked as smug as ever.

She loved this. He knew she did. And he loathed her.

The two burly men behind him forced Fenris onto his knees before her. He heard the faint footsteps outside get closer to his cell. When the shadows coming down the cellar steps emerged into the dim torchlight, Fenris found himself trembling.

"So..." Danarius emerged from the shadows. "My little pet.... what would you have me do to you?"

"Master, I-"

_"Silence!"_

One swift step forward and Danarius had him by the hair. Fenris inhaled sharply, not daring to gasp audibly.

"You will speak when spoken to! How many times do I need to repeat this? You answer when I tell you to. Do you understand, little wolf? Hm? Speak!"

"Yes," Fenris tried to nod. "Yes, master."

Danarius clicked his tongue. Fenris hated that sound - that sharp, whistling pitch from Danarius' tongue denoting how angry his master was with him. Nothing pleasant ever followed that noise. 

"So, speaking of your insubordination - you thought humiliating me in front of my guests last night was funny, did you?" Danarius asked icily.

Fenris shook his head.

"I told you to be careful with Mistress Devera's wine, did I not?"

Danarius traced his fingers around Fenris chin, outlining his jawline with his fingertip slowly.

"Yet you still managed to drop the entire bottle in the kitchen!" Without warning, Danarius wrapped a fist around Fenris' throat. His eyes gleamed cruelly. "And now my gift to her is wasted! I paid quite a pretty sum for it too. You know that, don't you pet?"

"I... didn't mean to," Fenris coughed as Danarius tightened his grip.

"Oh? You didn't?" Danarius taunted, softening his voice for his pet.

Fenris shook his head.

He knew Danarius was pissed. 

But it was all temporary. After this, Fenris would probably receive a brutal beating before things went back to normal and Danarius had him released.

Of course, he _could've_ told his master the truth: that Cassia had, in fact, dropped the bottle, not him. But Fenris voluntarily confessed to receive the beating in her stead. Cassia could not have handled Danarius' lashes. He could.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fenris could see the delight in Hadriana's wicked smile.

 _Oh, how he loathed that witch._ She was worse than his master in more ways than one.

Hadriana tried so desperately to get on Danarius' good side. Not only did she fancy herself as Danarius' favorite pupil, she openly expressed feelings for Danarius himself. So it came as no big surprise that Fenris was often the victim of her rage and jealousy. Whether Danarius was aware of her affection for him or not was another story entirely.

Still, Fenris had to follow his master's orders, which included listening and obeying Hadriana's orders. And she often overstepped her privilege. Angry because Danarius shared his bed with Fenris over her, Hadriana delighted in tormenting Fenris even more than Danarius did.

He could tell that she was just itching to whip him in Danarius' stead.

"What's this? Are you gazing off into your own world again, little wolf?" Danarius' facial hair lightly prickled on Fenris' cheek. The magister mused: "Do I need to teach you how to properly respect me again, Fenris? I can't help but notice you've barely greeted me at all this morning. Where are your manners?"

"I'm sorry... Master." Fenris croaked under the pressure on his throat; he could hardly breathe.

His throat hurt and felt dry. He suddenly realized how parched he was and remembered Hadriana had neglected to send him any water in his captivity. His head felt like it was exploding, and he knew all the blood was being cut off from his brain.

Pulsing cold and burning hot flashes flooded over him.

As soon as Danarius let Fenris' throat go, he immediately proceeded in coughing and taking in deep breaths until he felt his vision and heartbeat regain normality. Fenris' head throbbed like someone was taking a hammer to his skull. He tried to massage his temples but the guards behind him refused to let his wrists go. 

"Now," Danarius spoke with his back turned to Fenris. "Let's talk about your behavior last night, Fenris. It was, simply speaking, indictable."

Danarius petted Fenris atop the head like a dog. Fenris remained silent and held his head down.

His punishment was coming. He didn't dare speak another word.

"Hadriana?"

"Yes?" She answered him sweetly but Danarius held his gaze to his slave, grinning with a malicious intent Fenris was all too familiar with.

"Take your guards and leave us."

She paused, taken aback: "But, my lord-"

"Do not make me repeat myself again." Danarius growled in a low baritone, agitated.

Fenris saw Hadriana scowl and snap at her guards. They immediately let go of Fenris' wrists and walked with her out the cellar. She slammed the cellar door shut and stormed up to her own chambers.

Danarius paid little attention to her rage. When her footsteps faded upstairs he turned his attention back to Fenris, lips curled into a dangerous smile that made his slave shudder.

Even unbound, Fenris did not dare move without consent. 

Danarius caught Fenris by the chin, bringing him to eye level. 

"It's such a shame that you would wound me with your disobedience, Fenris. Perhaps I've been too lenient on you." Danarius spoke softly into Fenris' ears. His words were fierce, promising retribution: "I, who have clothed and fed you. I, who have treated you to a higher existence than you deserve. I, who have made you the strong warrior you are today. You don't even remember the day you came to me, do you? Begging and pleading for me to take you under my wing. It annoys me that I have to constantly tell you how easy you have it compared to other slaves - how _easy_ I make your existence."

Fenris swallowed, but kept silent.

"Alas, maybe you do not deserve the clothes and respect I've given you." Danarius spoke softly. "If that is the case, I'll have to take them away and teach you a lesson."

"Yes, master." Fenris hung his head down.

It did not take long for Danarius to get Fenris unclothed and on his knees. 

Those long, thin fingers ghosted over Fenris' chest lightly. It was almost a tickling feeling, but the gravity of the situation was enough to keep Fenris from fidgeting under Danarius' bony fingertips.

Fenris' chest heaved slightly, and Danarius watched his well-toned muscles expand and contract with a certain lust in his eyes.

Danarius' lips brushed against his cheek as he whispered: 

"Don't you know why I keep you at all my festivities? It's certainly not because I am in need of a bodyguard. You can speak, pet."

"My markings." Fenris answered quietly. 

"Yes, your markings..." Danarius' cold fingers slid up and down Fenris' chest, the tips tracing over the lyrium on his skin. There was a slightly burn every time Danarius touched those intricate, blue lines...

"Your markings are a symbol to my guests." Danarius explained. "They are a symbol that I am a magister to be feared and respected. Tell me, what would one think if the specimen of the 'magister to be respected' acted like a disobedient, feral dog, hmm? What impression would that send to my guests? And better yet, what do you think that shows other slaves?"

"I am sorry, master." Fenris replied quietly. 

"'Sorry', indeed." Danarius smiled darkly. "You are such a lucky boy, dear Fenris... Oh, my dear, dear little wolf...."

The magister's palms petted Fenris gently, once again admiring the well-toned flesh on Fenris' tanned body. Slowly his fingers slipped down further across Fenris' stomach until stopping to suddenly grope between the elf's legs. Fenris grunted at the sudden intrusion. Still, he was hesitant to turn away from his master, for fear of something worse occurring.

"Let's begin then," Danarius said, pleased at Fenris' compliance.

Fenris gritted his teeth and tried to focus on something else, anything else.

It would help him get this over with quicker. If he didn't obey, he knew how easily Danarius could wipe his memory again. Yes, it would take resources from his reserves, but Danarius had plenty of materials to make such experiments daily.

"You know how much it pains me to do this to you, don't you?" There was a hint of sadness in Danarius' voice. "But I have to set an example for all the rest of my slaves. _You_ gave me no choice, after all. _You understand this uncomfortable position you've put me in, don't you?"_

"Yes, master." Fenris replied in a almost golem-like manner as he knelt on the cold stone floor. "I apologize."

"As do I, pet."

Danarius unhooked one of the many, many weapons from the wall of the opposite side of the dungeon. This time, he took out a long, black whip. Even in the dimly-lit dungeon Fenris could see the gleaming needles at the end of the tails.

Fenris felt a shudder start down his spine. This wasn't his first time getting punished, but he still had to ease his way into it every time it happened. He was often whipped for speaking out of his place, disobeying orders, or making mistakes that angered his master. He would then, like last night, get hauled into the cellar until Danarius felt better and saw fit to let Fenris go about his regular duties, but not without punishment of course.

His master shifted towards him, one hand raised and glowing purple. Fenris suddenly found himself chained to the stone wall again. The magic-enhanced metal floated in the air, simmering into his flesh.

He was now completely naked, and vulnerable. He knew what was about to happen. The anticipation made his drop beads of sweat. 

"Be a good little pet for me, Fenris." Danarius whispered into Fenris' ears from behind. "You know this is your own fault for being such a disobedient slave."

"Yes, master." Fenris said quietly. 

Danarius stepped back and raised his arm to bring the whip down on Fenris' bare back.

There was a hungry gleam in the magisters' eyes. He intended to draw blood.

**_Crack!_ **

Fenris bit his lip and felt the fiery sensation on his back instantaneously.

It burned against the cold cellar atmosphere, from his shoulder to the bottom of his back, one lash seared throughout his body, and he closed his eyes, telling himself to endure it.

 _Cassia would've screamed._ Fenris told himself.  _I can take this._ She would've passed out by now.

"What's this, now? Have you forgotten how to count, Fenris?" Danarius asked, sneering delightfully. "Or do you desire my ire _indefinitely_?"

"N-no, master." Fenris shook his head in a panic, feeling angry at himself for forgetting. "I'm sorry. I will count. Please forgive me, master."

"Good," Danarius smirked, but Fenris could not see it.

**_Crack!_ **

The magister brought down another lash. This one was horizontal, from one side to the other. Fenris felt all of it, from impact to end.

"Two." Fenris tried to sound strong, but he had not eaten or had anything to drink since last night and his throat was getting parched. On top of that, his master's magic was draining him quickly. He felt weaker with each lash.

Danarius clicked his tongue. "You must think me a fool, Fenris. Last I checked, we don't start counting at the number 'two'."

Fenris burned with anger and desperation at the same time, cursing at himself for thinking he could pull the wool over his masters' eyes and get away with one lash less. Hw should've known better. Danarius was not in a lenient mood today.

Oh, how he wished someone would come to whisk Danarius away on an important business just so he could be left alone to deal with the burning sensation taking over his senses.

_Best get this over with. The quicker, the better._

"You useless little wretch, Fenris." Danarius clicked his tongue. "We are going to start over, understand?"

Fenris could only nod. And with that, his master proceeded in giving him a proper lashing.

**_Crack!_ **

"One."

Fenris hadn't even asked how many lashings he was to receive this time. He didn't dare ask. 

Would knowing help lessen the pain? No. It seldom ever did.

**_Crack!_ **

"Two."

The pain was searing across his back. New wounds were colliding with old ones. Fenris knew his master was using some sort of magic to inflict greater pain on him. Danarius would not be satisfied until Fenris cried out in pain and was bleeding in agony.

**_Crack!_ **

"Three." His wounds intersected with one another and it only made the pain greater. Fenris bit his lip and endured the pain, not wanting to give his master the satisfaction of hearing him in pain.

**_Crack!_ **

"Four."

But he could not withstand his primal urges. As he recited the number, a quiet groan escaped his lips and he began to feel more humiliated by the second.

_Soon. It will all be over soon._

The burning pain licked at his back cruelly. He gritted his teeth and barely contained the anguished cry that rumbled deep from his throat. 

He knew it would be a long while...

* * *

**_Crack!_ **

"Fifty-three."

Fenris' rugged breathing echoed loudly thoughout the chamber. He could barely stand. The chains holding his arms in mid-air was all that kept him up. His energy was drained and it would not be long before he would inevitably pass out. He had done so before and Danarius hadn't been any less merciful. 

But the lashing had stopped, and Fenris wonder if his master had finally tired himself out. After all, lashings were normally doled out by Hadriana or another one of their guards. But he had learned from experience that being hopeful for the end of his punishment often prolonged it instead.

"I think that's enough for you." Danarius said in a slightly heavy tone. He too, was slightly out of breath, which was an odd source of comfort to Fenris.

Danarius set the whip aside and looked down at his slave with a hunger that Fenris was all too familiar with. 

"You know that it hurts me just as much as it does you, pet..." He murmured to Fenris softly, finger running through Fenris' hair lightly. "But I had no choice. You know that, don't you?"

Fenris could already feel the warm, slow burn on his back from the lyrium in his skin trying to heal his wounds. It would burn for another three days until it healed. Fenris would desperately need to apply some cool healing salve when he returned upstairs.

Danarius slowly unbuckled his trousers before him. Fenris remained still. 

The magister ran his fingers some more through Fenris' silky, white hair affectionately.

At times Fenris would find this stroking to be comforting. Even as Danarius leaned forward to kiss him upon the lips Fenris accepted without struggle. Slowly, those dry lips trailed down his neck and Fenris felt Danarius' hands roaming between his legs again.

But he did not resist. He knew that Danarius would punish him for many more days if he did. Besides, this latter portion to his punishment was fairly tame compared to the pain of his lashes.

In fact, over the course of many years Fenris had learned to enjoy it. Perhaps it was out of desperation. Perhaps he wanted to feel something other than pain and humiliation. Either way, he had conditioned himself to take pleasure from Danarius' lust. It was far better than struggling against his masters' advances and enduring more torture.

Danarius always had a fondness for him over all other slaves - and the affection only grew once Fenris became Danarius' most-prized experiment. Sometimes Fenris could change Danarius' moods if he played his cards right - and the times they spent in Danarius' bedchambers were not altogether unpleasing. 

But to say there was a mutual love between the slave and his master would've been a great misconception. However, there were many times Fenris thought Danarius harbored a deeper love for Fenris than he let on. Many times when Danarius was in a charitable mood Fenris would feel a sense of enjoyment and relaxation when Danarius showered him with affection instead of foul, crippling insults.

This love-hate relationship between them was strange. The cycle of hating his master and then loving him was never-ending.

"You should be glad, pet." Danarius grinned into the nook of Fenris' shoulder and neck. "Poor Hadriana could never hold my attention as much as you. I saw you glare at her when she walked out. Are you jealous?"

"No, master... Ah..." Fenris swallowed and breathed heavily, feeling Danarius stroking him gently in his hands. This perverse pleasure was the only feeling that could detract him from the pain nipping at his back. For that, he was glad. Although he certainly did not enjoy being tied down and handled in such a manner. This was purely for Danarius' satisfaction - a fact that was made known once Fenris felt his masters' hands slip away.

He groaned in frustration, unable to reach release. Danarius chuckled at his helpless captive.

"Come now, Fenris." Danarius coaxed as he grabbed Fenris by his silky locks, smirking. "If you're good, I'll even let you finish in my hands. You would like that wouldn't you, my pet?"

Fenris did not reply. Instead, he felt himself being released from his bindings. But his legs gave way and he landed directly on his knees, on all fours in front of his master like a dog. The chains on his wrists clattered and clinked as he moved to stand. The blood rushed steadily back to his arms until he regained his sense of feeling in them.

Still, he remained kneeling before his master, knowing what deed was being asked of him. He dared not hesitate, for his master would become frustrated if he did so. Instead, he leaned forward to grab Danarius' erect member.

"Good boy," Danarius' voice echoed as Fenris tasted his master's flesh around his mouth.

Danarius ran his hands through Fenris' hair and inched his slave closer. Fenris compliantly took his master's erection deeper down his throat. A few times Danarius thrusted harder, Fenris choked. He tried to focus less on the pain on his back as Danarius neared climax. Fenris closed his eyes and tried not to gag, but it was hard not to with Danarius forcing himself in and out. Fenris knew that after he was done, Danarius would finally allow him to back upstairs in their richly decorated quarters, where he would remain by his side until he acted out again.

* * *

Fenris awoke suddenly from his nightmare only to find himself alone in a cold and dusty room.

The covers of his bed were tangled around him – from his thrashing about, no doubt. His snowy locks got caught in his eyes. He whisked the strands away from his face, noticing that he had been sweating in his sleep. Not only that, but the lyrium markings on his half-naked body was scorching in a glow and his heart was pumping so loudly it felt like it was about to pop from his chest.

Fenris ran his hands through his hair, trying to gather his breath.

He looked around at his surroundings: Spider webs and dust covered the mansion.

_No one. There's no one was here anymore save for myself._

It took him a moment to regain his thoughts: _Danarius' abandoned mansion. We - Hawke and I - we cleaned it out. You live here now._

His heartbeat steadied eventually.

_He will be back though. He always comes back, one way or another._

But for the moment, Fenris was alone.

No one was there to assassinate him.

He loosened the grip he had on the sword next to his bed and let our a sigh of relief.

At least his escape was real. That eased his mind immensely. Danarius had yet to take him back to Tevinter and wipe his memory. 

He was still himself, whatever that meant.

He was about to lay back down when another thought hit him:

 _Hadriana. Yesterday_ _. She's gone. She's finally fucking gone._

Which meant he was _that_ much closer to getting rid of Danarius.

Fenris was now permanently awake. He got up and went to wash his face, only to come back to the bedroom, make his way towards the window, and pull back the curtains slightly to peek outside. Droplets of water from his hair hit the windowsill.  _Tap. Tap. Tap._

It was still dark out.

"A few more hours until dawn." He murmured to himself.

His voice was oddly unsteady, no doubt still regaining his posture from the nightmare he just had.

Well, it wasn't so much a nightmare as it was a horrid memory he tried many times to forget. Normally, his nightmares seemed far less realistic than that one. In fact, he would rather endure many absurd nightmares than relive the horrors of the past. But whenever he slept, all that he seemed to 'dream' were remnants of a past he left behind. 

Although he was not tired, he went back to bed and rested against the pillows with his arm over his head.

He gazed up at the empty ceiling tiles above him, pensively in thought:

 

 _This rage. When will it leave me? Hadriana is gone. But it is not._ _When will it be sated?_

When he had finally caught up with Hadriana, she had begged him for mercy.

 _Oh, the look on her face was priceless._ He wouldn't have traded a hundred gold coins to miss it. She was scared out of her wits, and he loved it.

How long had he imagined her begging for her life before him? That woman had gotten the best of him so many times before. To him, she was even worse than Danarius. All of the things that she did to him were indescribable, unimaginable – torturous.

Hadriana had made his life a living Blight.

Fenris closed his eyes, laying an arm across his head to block out the rising sun seeping through the window as his mind raced through the past again:

_"Digusting, vile creature."_

_"Lick it. Lick my boot, you useless dog."_

_"Now tell me what you are. Say it!"_

Just those memories alone had Fenris trembling in anger. And they weren't even that bad compared to others...

But she was dead now. Hadriana would never be able to lay a finger or speak another demeaning word to anyone else, ever. And Danarius lost a promising student.

_"You did the right thing. She deserved what she got." Hawke's fingers traced over the stubble on his chin as she looked into his eyes._

Even if he regretted killing Hadriana, it was too late to go back now. Her cold corpse was rotting in a cave somewhere. There was nothing he could do different. There was nothing he  _wanted_ to do differently.

Now he could only look ahead. Now his primary focus could finally be shifted to Danarius. 

 _"The queen is gone. Only your king remains."_ _Hawke giggled, capturing his black rook on the chess board._

Fenris frowned, teeth clenched. He rose, sitting up on his bed. It creaked weakly as he shifted his body weight.

 _Focus, you fool._ He told himself.

Danarius - his former master. Danarius, who would stop at nothing to bring Fenris back to Tevinter in chains because he still considered Fenris his property.

 _That_ was his focus. 

Fenris thought of his dream again - a memory from a time long ago when he didn't know any better. The memory of Danarius tormenting him, and then expressing his perverse inclinations towards Fenris.

The thought made Fenris shudder. He couldn't think of the past for long. It always made him angry.

He was angry at himself for not taking action sooner. He was angry at himself for convincing himself of Danarius' love. He was angry that he became so complacent and believed all of Danarius' words like a child. He couldn't believe he once harbored any sort of affection for Danarius. He knew the 'love' he had persuaded himself to feel was just an illusion to make time pass by faster in the Imperium.

And it had left him feeling humiliated and stupid. 

The idea that Danarius was doing the same thing to other slaves made Fenris feel both uncomfortable but also oddly relieved. For the time being, he was shielded from Danarius and free to do as he pleased. But the idea that others had suffered in his place made him uncomfortable.

As long as Danarius existed - as long as Danarius was behind him, nipping at his back - Fenris would never be _free_. 

Danarius needed to be 'taken care of', in Hawke's terms. There was no other choice.

How many times had Fenris tried to hire his own mercenaries and assassins to kill Danarius? Too many to count, and each time the magister had anticipated them.

Of course Danarius was still alive. A magister of his caliber in the Imperium had both connections and money. Danarius could see assassination attempts from miles away. Fenris had neither the money nor the connections. 

Well, he had no money anyway.

His connections were on the rise though. 

_Hawke._

His mind lashed out at him. The rational side did, at least.

 _No, don't go there. Stop thinking about **that**. Fenhedis. _ He gritted his teeth.  _Last night... What I said to her..._

 _She's a distraction._  He told himself.  _She can help, but there are dangers to letting her too close to you. You know that, don't you?_

But he needed her connections and her help.

Fenris needed Hawke to help him deal with Danarius. She had resources and connections. He didn't. Until Danarius was taken care of, he couldn't be tempted by other... frivolous entertainments...

Except it wasn't that simple anymore.

He and Hawke often exchanged certain glances that weren't altogether unwelcome. They travelled together, exchanged battle tactics, comforted one another, and flirted - a lot.

At first, he was embarrassed by her blatant flirtations. He thought she was making fun of him. But when she told him she was being serious, he found himself tempted.

_It's too dangerous. She has no idea._

He never thought he would ever find himself completely infatuated with anyone in Kirkwall. But there was a mutual attraction from the beginning; Hawke was sarcastic and foul-mouthed, a trait he found oddly relaxing and entertaining. He tried to tell himself to stay away, but it was undeniable that she lingered in his mind more often than he cared to admit.

Slowly and steadily, he started flirting back. And she reciprocated every time. She had become more than his friend. 

And he wasn't about to lose her.

Fenris closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to repress his memories of hurting her. But the images were burned into his mind and he could not get rid of them.

_Hawke... I'm sorry._

Every time he closed his eyes all he saw were her daunting green eyes – hurt and confused, but desperately searching his for a sign of love that he was not ready to indulge. His own feelings were just as mysterious to him as they were to her.

He couldn't find the words to explain his predicament. It was complicated, and she didn't need to know the details. Even if he told her everything, she would - as usual - leap in and try to fix it as though it was a broken wagon when the truth of the situation ran much deeper. He didn't have the heart to tell her just how complicated this was:

Danarius wasn't just another slaver to deal with. He wasn't just some mercenary or assassin she could stab in the face. He was power. He was money. He was a Tevinter magister. He had men serving under him. He had power in the form of nearly an army. _He had methods of catching Fenris off-guard that did not involve physical assaults._

There was a reason Fenris had that dream last night. Danarius had put it there. He was toying with him. Even in Kirkwall, Fenris couldn't escape. He had trained for years to focus and always stay in control of his own thoughts. But even so, it didn't always work.

 _Get out of my head, Danarius._ Fenris glowered at nothing or no one in particular.  _Fuck off._

Hawke could've helped. She would've understood.

But instead of explaining himself to her, Fenris ran like he always did when things got heavy-handed. He could not risk Danarius finding out about Hawke. Not after he tried so hard to shield her from his thoughts.

A part of him had hoped Hawke would hate him. He wished she had thrown a vase at him last night when he told her he was leaving. He desperately wanted her to loathe him, because the fact that Hawke still loved him made his stomach churn and his insides twist. He hated seeing her gaze at him with those sad eyes. But he could neither encourage nor hinder her feelings for him.

He laid in bed, one arm over his forehead again, and closed his eyes.

There was no stopping the memories from flooding back:

* * *

_"Is it the markings? Do they hurt?"_

He was startled by her voice. He didn't know she was awake. 

"Yes, but..." Fenris stopped short, wondering if she would think of his any less for being scared by a mere nightmare (if they could even be construed as such). In reality, what he experienced was a cruel reminder of his past. If anything, it motivated him to finish what he started.

What was he doing? His freedom was hard-earned. And now he was throwing it out the window by indulging in idle pleasures. If he wanted to remain free, he should be taking measures to ensure he _stayed_ free.

This was too dangerous. It was too close. _They_ were too close.

**_You're playing with fire._ **

**_It can't happen again._ **

His heart ached. His head hurt. He felt hot with internal turmoil. His head was spinning thousands of ways to diffuse the situation - to make things work out. But none of them seemed plausible. He was never good at planning ahead anyway. That's where Hawke came in to begin with. She was going to help him solve his troubles.

But now...

"Last night..." He swallowed. "Last night was the best I could have ever dreamed, but..."

_"But?"_

The alarm in her voice was apparent. It made his heart jump wildly. He wanted to console and comfort her - to kiss her pain away and tell her everything was fine.

_Tell me I'm just making a big deal out of nothing. Please..._

But this _was_ a big deal. He could no longer pretend it wasn't. He had already gone too far, and now she was in danger.

_You idiot. You fucking idiot._

He couldn't believe he had indulged in something _this_  adolescent before tying up loose ends. It had been incredibly irresponsible of him, and now he was angry at himself for letting it happen.

He had to explain this to her, but without divulging too much information. She couldn't know that Danarius could plant himself in his thoughts to gather information on them - to use Fenris' own friends against him. Hawke would understand if he explained himself, right? 

 _But_ _there was still_ **_that_ ** _girl. The girl from his visions. Who was she?_

_Calling out for him. Her silver-blonde hair blowing in the wind as she smiled at him._

_She touched his face - a gentle touch._

_His arms were around her waist as he pulled her into a warm embrace._

_She leaned in close, arms wrapped around his neck, his name coming out from her rosy red lips in a whisper._

_What was his name? **What was his name? Why couldn't he remember?**_

_And then she was gone. In an instant._

No. He couldn't tell Hawke. He couldn't tell anyone. There's too much at stake.

He had to tell Hawke something else. Quick.

"I have to leave." His words trailed off, realizing that he had to put his foot down. The next words had to be clear-cut, not matter what. He couldn't look her in the eyes as he spoke: _"I cannot do this, Hawke."_

"What do you mean?" Her unsteady voice couldn't hide how surprised she was, even tough she tried to mask it with a playful tone. When Fenris didn't reply, she knew he was serious. He usually was.

"Hadriana was only just a peon under Danarius."

"So? We'll take care of him like we did her." She told him, quick to respond.

"I can't... I can't let you get in harm's way." Fenris replied quietly.

"What are you talking about, Fenris?"

_Just give her a general idea. No details. Danarius can't know about her._

"You... you mean too much to me." He confessed. Even telling her this was dangerous. But he wanted her to know. maybe it would give her some solace.

"I can handle myself." Hawke stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Her voice was serious and stern. She was quickly regaining her assertive tone.

At least he would rest easy knowing that she was quick to recover.

"Please Fenris, you don't have to leave. That is no answer for the situation. Explain to me what is going on and we can figure this out together, like we always do."

He had always liked her determination. But he couldn't back away from this. He had made up his mind. This was the best choice.

But looking at her face as she tried to retain that strong posture and stubbornness was almost too hard. _Almost_.

He turned away from her. He was never good at giving speeches. He was a man of few words, after all.

How many hours had he spent lying beside her until he convinced himself that this was the way things had to be? He had prepared for this more or less. But he couldn't do it while looking at her. He had to turn away from those rosy cheeks, quivering lips, and gleaming olive eyes in order to do what he planned.

_This is not easy._

_So? Quit being a child!_

"I can't." He started. "Hawke … being with me will not be a walk in the park."

"I'll say." She huffed. 

"I have to leave. We can't continue this. I indulged the idea for a night, but - "

"Now you realize it was a mistake?" She fired back defensively without hesitation.

His heart jumped in alarm at her accusation. He could tell she was hurt and angry at him, and he didn't blame her.

"What? Was I not a good enough lay for you? Did you realize that there are better fish in the sea?"

There was a spiteful bitterness in her voice that he absolutely hated hearing. It was like poison. But he preferred it this way. It was almost better having her angry.

"Hawke - No, I - "

He turned to spare another glance at her. She wasn't even dressed yet. How could he stare at those voluptuous hips and  _not_ want to spend another two hours with buried deep inside her?

Unfortunately, he had plenty of self-restraint if nothing else.

"Then what _is_ the matter?" She huffed, getting out of bed to throw on her robe. "Because I can't think of any other reason for you to fuck me and leave."

Oh, and here came her love for foul-language. Fenris would've smiled were it not for the severity of their situation. He liked so much of the little things about her - the foul-mouthedness, the stubbornness, the relentless help she was willing to give...

There was so much about her he had come to enjoy - like spending time with Hawke on those missions, on those long treks in the forest – on the bed. _Especially_  on the bed.

He took too long of a pause to pick off where he started, and by that time Hawke had started to talk instead.

"Fenris, what is the matter? Please tell me. Do you... not like me anymore?"

"Hawke, no... I ... Nothing could be further from the truth, Hawke."

_Please, believe me. If nothing else, believe **this**._

"Then let's work through this - whatever it is."

Her eyes glittered with hope in the dimly-lit bedroom.

No, he couldn't have that. He couldn't bear it.

Her hand touched his shoulder ever so slightly, and he could barely contain himself. He longed to take her in arms, hold her, kiss her feverishly and sweep her off her feet. Maker, he wanted to throw her in bed and...

"Stop. Please Hawke..."

He wrung her hand off of him, and immediately regretted it when he saw the hurt look in her eyes. But it was too late for him to take back his actions. He had stopped himself before everything would get out of control but unintentionally upset her in the process.

"Hawke, listen to me: I _do_ have feelings for you. Someday, when everything is dealt with, we can - I just -" He paused, trying to place the right words together. "Things are too hectic. Everything is too ... it's all going too fast. I have other matters to take care of before we can... continue _this._ "

"You're being dramatic." She rolled her eyes. "We can track Danarius if you want. I prefer to have him walk into a trap we lay out for him, but we'll make it a priority if it's urgent for you. You're clearly worried about him."

"No!" He told her hastily. "He - Danarius has methods. He has people. There's always people watching - looking for me."

"We've dealt with them in the past." She argued. "And we can continue doing so. It's _not_ that big a deal, Fenris. You're just anxious because of that nightmare. I prom-" 

"That's not what I meant." He told her. "There's always a few that slip through the cracks. I can - "

"So? We'll try harder to eliminate them all next time." She gritted her teeth.

"It's not that simple."

"How is it _not_ simple? He sends people to kill you, we kill them instead. Eventually he'll run out of guys and come to us in person. And  _that's_ when we strike." She explained. " _Or_ we use you as bait to lure him over. That'll probably be better, in fact!"

"That's not what I mean, Hawke." He frowned. "Look, I can't explain it but -"

"Then fucking try to." She gritted her teeth. He could tell she was fighting back from snarling at him angrily.

"Hawke, _I have to do this_. I have to get away for a while."

"You're being a dramatic prat! You know that?" She told him angrily. Her fists were balled up at her sides. She would've used a uglier term to describe him; he could tell she was biting her tongue on lashing out at him. It only made it hurt worse. "You owe me an explanation at least! Where are you even going to go?"

"I don't mean - I'm sorry. I truly am. But I... I have little choice in the matter..."

"Bullshit, Fenris." She told him. "You're running away without explaining shit to me."

"Hawke, I can't ..." He swallowed. "I... I enjoyed everything we had."

"'Had'?" She was trying to trick him into making a promise he knew he might not be able to keep. He couldn't - He couldn't lie to her.

"Being with you... it was better than anything I could ever imagine. But right now, I - I'm not ready. It's complicated."

"We're both adults, Fenris." He could tell she was trying to remain vigilant but calm.

"Yes, we are." He breathed. "So let's be reasonable. As long as there's a possibility for you to be in harm's way-"

"I'm constantly being bombarded by requests to venture out in the woods to kill shit. I'm pretty sure _one_ more dangerous mission wouldn't be too much to handle." She rolled her eyes. "We will take care of Danarius, Fenris. Please -"

"I can't let you be a part of this anymore, Hawke." He told her. "It's my problem and I realize now the fewer people I have involved, the better."

" _Well, it's too damned late for that._ " She rolled her eyes.

"Forgive me. But his circle of acquaintances run deeper than a few assassins and mercenaries. You have no idea what he's capable of. In the long run, it's better to end things while we're ahead."

"So you're going to dip out and run from me?"

"I'm not running from you Hawke. I would never dream of it." He told her, his eyes pleading for her to understand. "I just... I don't want to play with fire. I'd rather not have you become a victim - another hostage he would use against me. I wouldn't wish that on you, or any of our friends."

"Oh, how valiant of you." Her tongue was like a dagger, poisoned with sarcasm.

"Hawke -"

"You need me, I need you. Nothing should come between us, _unless you let it_. The only person letting Danarius come between us is _you_."

"You do not understand," Fenris replied. "Danarius has power – more power than we could handle together. If he comes after me, he'll come after you too. Just by telling you - just by tonight's actions alone - it gives him knowledge. Chances are he knows how much I value you. I guarantee he intends to take advantage of that. You cannot be safe as long as you are associated with me."

"Be _reasonable_ , Fenris."

This conversation was dragging on for too long. He had to go, before he regretted it.

_Every second matters._

"I'm sorry." He turned his back to her and started walking. "Please understand."

Nothing pained him as much as that day, when he walked away from the woman he loved, all to protect her.

He dared not look back, and he dared not say anything else to her.

Not even a farewell.


	2. Dreams (Fenris x Hawke)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 was edited slightly, but not enough to be a plot-changer. Still, I recommend a re-read just to get back into things because I will try harder to regularly post chapters and I apologize for the confusion changing things in the past chapter might've caused.
> 
> Anyway, long chapter. SMUT AHEAD Please enjoy!

"I hear good things about you, Anders. Not what I expected."

"From a mage, you mean."

Hawke could barely contain the urge to roll her eyes as she walked ahead. 

"I didn't say that." Aveline's shield clunked behind her as they ran through the Gallows to stop by the Herbalist's shop.

"How else would you judge me? _What else am I a shining example of?"_ Anders snorted. 

"I don't know... other Fereldans lurking in Darktown? Mage or not." Aveline either missed his sarcasm or chose to ignore it. The former was more likely. 

"You... have a fair point."

Hawke let out a silent sigh, glad they left it at that. She didn't need another quarrel to worry about. Sometimes she wished her allies weren't so damned dysfunctional.

They were on their way to gather supplies for Anders and his patients. The day was waning, and soon night would fall. Hawke had promised to see Anders at his clinic afterwards. They bought droughts of lyrium, though Anders stopped to purchase additionally alchemical reagents for more potent salves. He procured a large variety of embrium in particular, along with several empty flasks.

Meanwhile, the rest of them busied themselves with some old-fashioned window shopping.

Hawke sighed, turning her gaze towards the setting sun.

_At least there's no more Athenril, barking her damned orders at me left and right._

_You're a family provider now. My little girl's all grown up! If only your father were here to see this! He would've been proud,_ Leandra told her, beaming.

But the feeling of making her father proud also brought out a deep sadness and painful regret. Even though she had studied the art of stealth from her mother, Hawke was rather close with her mage father.

Regardless, now that she no longer worked for Athenril, Hawke was a free agent. She no longer had to smuggle who-knows-what to clients for Athenril.

Hawke told herself she was now free to do whatever she pleased - you know, not  _illegal_ activities such as smuggling. But the truth of the matter was, Hawke didn't find the smuggling to be too bad. Her mother often wondered openly if the smuggling had made her daughter too devious (not that Leandra Hawke was one to talk). But in all honesty, Hawke found her work with Athenril to be strangely comforting.

She mostly smuggled valuable herbs and minerals to merchants - tools and supplies that actually _helped_ the refugees in Kirkwall. Some of them were out of jobs before that, others were sick before she delivered necessary reagents to the healers - Felandaris and elfroot that the guards were unwilling to allow into the confines of the city for some _incredibly fucking_   _stupid_  reason.

Luckily, opportunities in Kirkwall were not scarce. Adventuring was far more preferable than listening to her mother and uncle bicker at home. Sure, she'd get bruises and cuts when she returned home on some days, but at least with every completed task Hawke felt like she was making a difference.

Besides, distractions were preferable to the knotty issues that filled her thoughts of late. 

She glanced over to the smithy's stall for a split second. But her eyes locked on to Fenris' immediately.

_**Shit!** _

She felt her cheeks flush red and forced herself to turn away. Her heart fluttered and she quickly cursed at herself for being so stupid over a such a minute thing.

 _Look at you! Are you seventeen again?_   _Lusting over a man you know little to nothing about! He left you and offered only a piss poor excuse! He doesn't deserve your infatuation. The least you can do is remain calm and professional to show him how much it doesn't matter. Have some self-respect, woman._ _It didn't mean anything anyway. Not to him at least._

"Are you alright, Hawke?"

Aveline cut into her thoughts, the metal gauntlet on Hawke's shoulder almost making her jump.

"You look a bit flushed."

"I am fine, Aveline."' Hawke cleared her throat awkwardly, pretending to examine her boot. It was hard to concentrate on anything, frankly speaking. Many thoughts were flying around in her head, she had many questions that could not be answered.

_Why was he scowling at her? **He** ended things with **her** , not the other way around. Was he angry she still brought him to the Wounded Coast today? If so, he could just decline her invitations. Or, perhaps he longed for her as much as she did him? Perhaps he realized he had made a mistake?_

She was being ridiculous again.

_Listen to yourself. You sound desperate and pathetic! If he still wants you, why wouldn't he just come up and say so? Why would he be scowling?_

She knew it was foolish to indulge such hopeful, sanguine thoughts. Fenris had been rather adamant on ending their 'relationship', if you could even call it that.

There were so many unanswered questions on her part. A part of her was angry at him for acting like a pubescent brat. She wanted to believe that Fenris merely gave her an excuse because he no longer found her intriguing. But the raging hard-on Fenris had when they shared a horse during their last mission definitely told her otherwise. So why was he trying so damned hard to avoid her?

Deep down Hawke knew Fenris cared. His only crime was caring  _too_ much and being overly concerned of endangering her. He told her a serious relationship meant more danger for them both because Danarius would find a way to use her as leverage. But to be honest, she couldn't think of a shittier excuse.

 _So what? Let that fucker come. I dare him._ Hawke thought angrily.  _Let Danarius come and **just**_ _ **fucking try** to take Fenris away._

Hawke had tried to catch Fenris alone several times, but he suddenly seemed to be a master of evasion. Her more indulgent alter-ego desired desperately to make amends. Her pride had already been wounded from begging him to stay, but her ever-optimistic heart ached for a happier ending.

She tried to prod him for a detailed explanation, if only to clear things up and try to think of a different solution to - what she perceived as - his overactive imagination and social anxiety. But Fenris only answered her questions with silence. She'd rather he talk to her than ignore her completely. 

_It's only been two weeks, but..._

There was already a rift growing. And it was awkward. Whether her companions noticed or not had yet to be determined. They hid it well, but Hawke still suspected many of them already knew. It obvious from the way she and Fenris could barely look at each other.

At least  _she_ thought it was awkward.  _Who knows what the fuck Fenris thought._

Hawke found herself watching Fenris again, who was suddenly too busy looking over his shoulder to notice her staring.

_She could still imagine him naked, straddling her in bed. Beads of sweat dripping as she raked her nails across his back, screaming his name in a chant. Her legs wrapped around his torso as she felt herself convulse around his thick, hard -_

"Are you feeling under the weather?" Aveline asked her.

Anders walked over with his newly purchased items in his knapsack.

"You  _do_ seem a bit red. Are you sure you didn't stay in the sun too long today? Did you forget to put on sunscreen again?" He teased.

A valid question, seeing how they spent most of the day running around the Wounded Coast. It wouldn't be the first time she'd experienced a nasty sunburn. Last time, she had to bite the bullet and ask Anders to cast Winter's Grasp a few times just to relieve the pain, even though Anders insisted it would only make it worse.

"No, I'm fine. Really." She reassured. 

"I'll take a look if you need it. I  _am_ a healer, you know. And I _did_ brush all those tiny baby spiders off you when you started screaming like a maniac in the caves..."

"My hero." Hawke rolled her eyes again. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Not a chance." 

She laughed. Shopping with her friends was fun and reminded Hawke of a more innocent time in Fereldan. Sometimes she wondered if they too wished for a simpler, less violent, way of living. Sometimes she wondered where she would be if she lived life as a carefree Amell, living in her rich Hightown Estate and attending parties with her mother and sister. She probably wouldn't have ever met any of her friends at all. Thoughts like those made her feel grateful for meeting such a different range of people, despite the loss she'd experienced following the Fifth Blight - her father in particular.

By the time they passed all of the Hightown markets, Hawke's arms were tired from carrying the many tonics she had acquired for her various spider bites.

_Mother's going to have a conniption when the huge bumps start swelling on my arms. But at least we got rid of the queen spider._

The arachnid population in Lowtown would dwindle and the water well would be clean again, and the feverish epidemic going on would die down in a few weeks.

Aveline went back to her post at the barracks, letting Hawke know that she would not be available tomorrow. She was going on a date with a certain guardsman. The thought made Anders and Hawke giggle, and Aveline walked away, face beet red.

They started walking down the steps from the Viscount's place when Anders spoke:

"Well, that explains why the clinic's been so full lately."

"Yes, but at least we took care of the spiders before things got too out of hand." Hawke agreed, trying to pack all the tonics in her knapsack. "That antidote should be enough for your patients, right?"

"Undoubtedly. We did good work today." Anders replied, still looking a bit unnerved.

She smirked and nudged Anders' side to make him feel assured.

" _Of course_ we did."

"I'm just worried there might not be enough for them all."

Hawke snorted. "You know Anders, a little bird told me half your patients aren't _really_ injured when they come to you." She winked.

"Oh? And where, pray tell, did you hear something as preposterous as that?" Anders smirked, his anxious demeanor changing into the pleasant, playful mage she knew so well. He crossed his arms across his chest, a smirk tugging across his lips in amusement.

"Isabela, who else?" Hawke rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

"Why, that gossiping little..."

"Varric too." Hawke added. "Curious though, what kind of person pretends to be sick to get the attention of a healer anyway? I mean, isn't it kind of cruel for someone to take away time that you could be spending with an _actual_ patient in need?"

"I can usually tell which patients are there for  _that_." Anders chuckled. "It's... pretty obvious."

"Still though," Hawke looked thoughtful. "What kind of horrid person pretends to be sick for the sake of some attention anyway?"

"In this wretched place? Anyone. Everyone. Those who need to feel anything other than Kirkwall's walls closing in around them, I guess."

"That's a little depressing."

"It _is_." Anders chuckled, though he too had a sad look in his eyes. He paused, tossing her a glance. "Why do you wonder about this? Are you... interested?"

Hawke laughed. "I don't think so. Besides, when it comes down to men, I'm pretty specific."

"Oh, really?"

_Yes, I'd **specifically**  like my men to be brooding and mysterious._

She glanced at Fenris again.

_Apparently._

* * *

"Hey, are you feeling alright, Hawke? Your face is flushed." Anders asked Hawke for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

_She's fine. Leave her be._

"O-Oh! Is it?" Hawke visibly blushed. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I don't want you fainting like you did last time. Why don't you come with me to the clinic so I can give you a check up? It's been a while anyway."

"No, I'm fine Anders. Really."

"Here, let me check. Just to be sure."

_Typical._

"What? No!" Hawke insisted, laughing it off.

"Come on." Anders laughed. "It's just me, Hawke. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know, I know. But I'm fine, really."

"Are you lying? Here, how are your calves feeling after last time? Any knots?"

"None at all." She grinned. "Thank you though. I feel bad I even asked last time."

Behind them, Fenris shifted uncomfortably.

There was a fiery intensity tugging at his chest. It was burning in his chest and he tightened his fist in attempt to control it.

"That's too bad. I'm quite good at massages." 

_What the - Did he just wink at Hawke?_

"You still look a bit flushed. Let me check your forehead..."

"No, I'm fine Anders. Really!"

Still insisting, Hawke shook her head until Anders took matters into his own hands and grabbed the hem of her sleeve, pulling her close so that he could place a hand over her forehead, gently blowing her hair aside as he did so.

" _Hands off."_

Fenris' order snapped like a whip and Hawke rooted to the spot. 

"Fenris," Anders turned, nodding. "I didn't think you were still here. You're so quiet I thought you'd gone home already."

"Obviously not," Fenris resisted rolling his eyes and pulled Hawke towards his side. His heartbeat was rising and he felt Hawke suddenly shiver against him and he tightened his grip. 

"What's wrong with  _you_ today?" Anders frowned, immediately recognizing his defensive stance.

Normally they'd be able to get along for a few days before a argument or fight broke out. 

Fenris hoped he'd be able to control the envy in his heart.

But the day had taken it's toll on him. And he couldn't keep a lid on his boiling rage.

* * *

"Keep up your act, mage. I hope you do not plan on using that insincere demeanor to land yourself in bed with Hawke." Fenris replied back viciously.

 _Whoa there!_ This statement took her aback and Hawke froze in place. _What? Why would Fenris say that? Did he think she would sleep with just anyone? Why was he making her seem like such an easy woman? If he was trying to insult her to incur her wrath, it was working._

 _"_ Calm down, the both of you." She ordered, irritated.

She glared at Fenris, but he didn't meet her gaze because he was too busy glaring at Anders. 

"I am  _genuine_  about my feelings." Anders answered him, his voice echoing the deserted Hightown steps.

Hawke felt her cheeks grow hot at Anders' words. _What the fuck was going on?_

She stood still, mouth open but unable to form words. She was still trying to wrap her mind around what just happened. 

_Oh no. Did Anders just admit he had feelings for her? This was the first time she had heard about it._

Then again, if Anders discreetly expressed feelings for her in the past she wouldn't have known. When it came to flirting and infatuation, Hawke was considerably one-track-minded. But now that she looked back on past conversations, he _had_ subtly mentioned his attraction to her. She had just been too invested in Fenris to take it seriously. 

_Shit. That's probably what happened..._

It's not like Hawke and Fenris had established a relationship. They couldn't even make it for  _one day_ before it ended horribly. Their 'fling', as Isabela would call it, was hardly something to brag about. Sure, everyone was aware Hawke flirted often with Fenris, but she normally masked her sincerity by flirting with everyone else as well. Which, to her misfortune, was probably why Anders had developed feelings for her and assumed that she would reciprocate them. 

Anders glared at Fenris. "Why are you so tense today? I was only asking Hawke about her well-being. You don't own her. She's her own woman. We're all friends here. As her friend, I am allowed to care for her just as much as you, aren't I?"

"You best watch your tongue, mage." Fenris gnarled. "Before I rip it out from your skull."

_Fuck. These two were going to cause a ruckus. Again. What was going on with Fenris?_

_"That's enough!"_ Hawke spoke up, trying to gain control of her party. "Fenris, we need to talk -"

"He's not a child, Hawke." Anders frowned. "He can go home on his own."

Hawke shook her head firmly and angrily grabbed Fenris by the arm.

"No, I need to talk to him _now_. Alone." She told Anders, more aggressively than she intended. "I'll meet you at the clinic within the hour, Anders."

Anders opened his mouth to say something but his words were lost.

"Alright then," Anders started down the stairs to Darktown, defeated.

"And _you_ ," She said hotly, turning on her heels to Fenris. "We're going to your place to talk."

"Hawke - "

"Shut up. Don't you fucking start with me, Fenris." She challenged, dragging him off the opposite direction Anders wandered. 

Fenris frowned but relented and followed, letting her drag him to his decrepit mansion.

Hawke knew she was acting angry and being overly dramatic. But she was too angry and confused to continue playing these games with Fenris. Feelings of inadequacy, anger, sadness, and who-knows-what-else were steadily building up in her chest, and she felt like she was about the burst. She was either going to pounce on Fenris, or kill him. He was driving her nuts. 

 _Get it together!_ She told herself, cursing.  _I don't care how you do it. **Make him** answer every question you have. He owes you that much. There's no excuse for him to act so childishly, damn it_ _!_

* * *

Fenris should've apologized for being such an ass to Anders and wandered back home by himself.

He hadn't meant on starting a argument for no reason. He just happened to snap the moment he saw Anders touch her. 

He wasn't being territorial; he was just in a terrible mood today: First, he woke up from yet another nightmare of Hawke being taken away from him; it felt so real he barely had the strength to wake himself up before he felt Danarius' demons searching for him. He woke in the middle of the night drenched with sweat and his heart thumping like a fiery drum.

When he returned to sleep the blurred visions of the blond-haired woman cropped up again. He knew her; he  _knew_ that she was someone important to him. Someone from his past. A mother? A sister?  _Who was she? He had to know!_

Danarius knew the answers to these questions. Danarius put those visions in his head. He must've.

Fenris felt his chest being set ablaze.

This woman. The blond-haired woman who frequented his dreams like a ghost _had to_ hold _some_ kind of significance. But there was no way of knowing who she was unless he asked Danarius. Which meant this was just another thing Danarius could hold over Fenris' head to try luring him back to the Imperium. Just another ploy to get Fenris to crawl back.

He should've known better than to go spider-hunting with his friends today. He was in a atrocious mood by the time they exited the caverns into the blazing, fiery sun near the coast. The sand sinking in between his toes didn't help either. He thought killing something - anything - would help take the edge off, but all it did was leave him with a enraged, manic rage that erupted as soon as he saw Anders flirting with Hawke.

Hawke was basically dragging him back to his own home. He feet seemed unwilling to drag on no matter how hard he willed it.

"Come on," She gritted her teeth. "Hurry up."

He would've said something in protect but he had suddenly become too preoccupied to think.

The thin leather fabric stretched over Hawke's pert ass accentuated her curvaceous figure and it was in clear view in front of him. To top off, the corset she wore today was so tight her tits looked as though they were ready to pop out. It took all the energy he could muster to tame the rising hard-on he had as he followed her up the stairs, mesmerized. How had he  _not_ noticed the tightness of her clothes before? 

Fenris growled. If he was thinking these thoughts then so was that abomination Anders.

 _Venhedis_. He  _really_ shouldn't be thinking thoughts like these when there were other serious matters he needed to occupy himself with...

Still, he followed Hawke to him home.

They reached his mansion, and as soon as the door slammed shut behind him he found himself on top of her.

"Wait, what - Fenris, what are you-"

His lips collided with hers within seconds. He couldn't control himself. What was wrong with him? Why was this happening? 

 _What is she doing to me?_ He groaned internally.

Her hands rested against his chest and met his body with little resistance. His lips were soft and warm as they moved against his. She sighed and opened her mouth to him, slowly easing into the kiss.

His tongue met hers and all gentleness was gone.

* * *

 Her hands dove into his hair, tangling her fingers through his silk white threads. She pulled him closer as his hands stroked down her thighs.

"He doesn't touch you again." He ordered in a low growl in her ear.

"Oh, are you done ignoring me now?"

"Obviously." He replied, ripping a hole in her stockings and pulling her armor apart piece by piece. The silver plates clashed loudly on the floor of him home but he didn't give a damn.

"Get this corset off. Now."

"Fine. Talk later. Fuck now. Got it." She nodded in agreement, eyes slowly brimming with lust and desire.

He lifted her up effortlessly and soon she sat on the edge of his unused dining table, tunic hoisted up and bunched around her waist. 

Fenris pressed her legs open and stepped between them, lips never leaving her soft flesh.

"I swore to keep my hands off you, but then I saw you in  _those_ pants and then  _his_ hands all over you, and when he said-"

She laughed. "It didn't mean anything, Fenris."

She hitched her legs over his hips and yanked him closer.

"Well, when I touch you, it _will_  mean something." He promised against her mouth, squeezing her breast through her corset.

She was drowning in his olive eyes. She parted her lips, an invitation for him to fill.

Hawke felt the hard length of his shaft through his thin black pants.

_Damn._

As her fingers fumbled with the laces to her armored corset, his hands climbed up her sides and under her tunic. She felt herself quiver as his exploration paused under her breasts. She moaned again and moved her hips to rub his hard-on against the damp fabric of her underwear. His rough palms slid up to cup both breasts and Hawke drew in a shaky breath.

She wanted more. Everything he could give her. Her breasts heaved with need.

“Fenris, please.” Her words had lowered into a deep, sultry whisper.

His thumbs brushed over her sensitive nipples, and Hawke’s head fell back against the wall as she tossed her corset on the floor with the rest of her clothes.

He immediately yanked her tunic over her head. Their gazes held as he tugged off the strings to her brassiere. Once the strings were untangled, the heaving of her breasts was enough to dislodge the fabric and as the cups peeled their way off of her skin, Hawke heard something close to a growl rise from Fenris’s throat.

He was trying to be gentle, but she could feel the beast beneath ready to break free.

She frowned. She wanted him free. She wanted more than his orgasm. She wanted all of him; she wanted him wild. She wanted him so inconceivably unchained - a ball of sexual tension unleashed with explosive pleasure. 

“Fenris.” She whispered.

Still controlled, he lowered his head slowly, those eyes riveted on her face. She knew he was questioning her. She knew how important control was to him, but she didn't feel like playing fair with him at the moment. She  _was_ still peeved, after all. He was angry one moment, and then pouncing on her the next. What the fuck did he want from her anyway? Just sex? Well, at least  _that_ part was mutual.

She squeezed him tighter with her thighs and leaned back to give him access. His soft, skilled lips closed over her nipple and Hawke felt her breath leave. Delicate little muscles deep inside pulsed, demanding to be stroked. He groaned as he suckled her. Strong tugs that gave so much pleasure and a hint of pain. His hand moved to cup her other breast.

She mewled against him and clutched him tighter.

"Such scandalous noises coming from the mighty Hawke." He grinned into her ear.

_Damn. That voice!_

"Shut up," She hushed, feeling her cheeks grow hot. 

She could feel his erection against her. He wanted her. He needed her.

Hawke reached down between them, to the waistband of his breeches. Using her heels she bucked and shoved his pants and underwear down his thighs, freeing his straining cock. She grasped him firmly and he groaned against her breast. Eyes closed, he sucked her nipple harder, his tongue lashing it in a fierce rhythm.

Moments later, Hawke felt the soft fabric of their clothes beneath her and Fenris’s body above her. He freed her from her panties, baring her to him, and pushed her thighs apart. He effortlessly pulled his own tunic over his head and she bathed in the incredible sight of his magnificent body. His lean muscles flexed rigidly as he came down to devour one breast, his hand kneading the other.

A moan escaped her as Fenris released her breast, leaving her nipples rosy, red, and puckered. The deep ache between her thighs was building steadily.

She stroked him again, tighter and faster this time. Moving the head of his shaft so it was nestled between her thighs, she moaned audibly as he started grinding against her slickness. Every time he thrusted against her sex, she felt the head of his cock part her moist folds below to rub up against her clit. It was too much, but she couldn’t stop. The heated friction between her legs was building into an orgasm that she feared was going to tear her apart in his arms.

“Fenris!” It was a whisper and a plea. "I'm going to..."

His arm tightened around her waist and he tugged her nipple with his teeth.

"My name," He commanded. "Say my name."

_Maker damn that sexy, gravelly baritone. She just couldn't resist it!_

"Fenris," She breathed. "I'm going to..."

"Give it to me," He let her nipple pop from his mouth and looked up at her. “Scream for me...” 

She tried to look apprehensive: “I’ll have you know I’m not much of a screamer.”

“Liar." He leaned in until their noses touched, until their lips were just a touch away: “You will scream my name like it’s the only one you know. I want you to know who’s responsible for your pleasure.”

Before she could respond, he dipped his head back to her breasts, recapturing her nipple and sucking and biting it, sending a bolt of energy charging through her body. Then he thrusted his hard erection against her sex, fast.

She gasped and felt her knees buckle.

_"Fenris!"_

She screamed and shattered over the edge. She met his violent thrusts with her own, matching the rhythm and speed, riding it against her center as she came and came and came.

When she finally came down from her high she found herself leaning against his shoulder. Her body was still pulsating from the sensation. She could barely stand.

And yet here she was, opening her eyes and finding herself looking down at his erection, still nestled between the folds of her sex. The head was beading at the top.

She moved to wrap her hand over his erection but Fenris brushed his fingers over the sensitive clit. She jerked under his touch.

“Fenris,” Hawke whispered, and ran her hands through his hair, before sliding them to his nape. She looked down to his erection pointedly, but he shook his head.

“Not yet, minx. I have other plans.” 

_Fuck. His voice was so hot. It was chocolate to her ears. And he knew she loved it when he talked dirty to her. Damn it._

"That's not fair, you know what talking like _that_ does to me." She breathed.

"One of the many surprising discoveries I've made about you,"

He smirked deviously and started kissing her neck, down to her belly until he knelt between her legs. Hawke inhaled deeply. _Was he really going to...?_

His lips brushed against her inner thigh, lining the flesh with soft kisses.

When he brought his face to her sex and inhaled, Hawke suppressed the instinct to press her thighs together and push him back. She hadn’t had a man do this to her in a very long time.

Next thing she knew, Fenris’s tongue brushed wetly against her moist cleft to lick up the moisture that was already dripping from her quivering slit. The warmth of his tongue penetrated her, seeped into her veins, and the sensation traveled to her heart.

She moaned out loud, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure Fenris gave her. A deeper moan echoed her own. Surprised, she looked down at him just as he looked up, his eyes dark with lust.

Fenris locked eyes with Hawke and saw the desire in hers. He had dreamed of seeing her like this: spread out before him, naked, vulnerable, yet eager to receive what he was about to give her.

Tearing his gaze from her sinful eyes, he dropped his attention back to the ultimate prize: her drenched pussy. She was already so wet. He knew he could effortlessly slide into her petite body with one thrust. Just the thought of it made pre-cum leak from the tip of his shaft.

He groaned, still feeding until the pulsing between her legs slowed.

Fenris pulled back just as he felt her pulsating against his lips. She whimpered and it made him smirk deviously at denying her orgasm.

He returned to her mouth. His hands grasped her hips and he lifted her off the counter. Hawke wrapped her arms around his neck as he roughly squeezed her butt, pulling her against his cock, creating a wet friction that had them sighing against each other.

He was huge and throbbing and all Hawke wanted was to be filled by him. Her heart was pounding out of her chest and she fought for air even as she dove into his kisses. She felt herself being lowered and knew they weren’t going to make it to a bed. The cold travertine tiles would do. She opened her thighs wide for him.

His chest heaved once under her touch and his jaw tightened. Those hazel eyes were staring into her and she saw him trying to regain control.

He gripped her knees, yanked her to him.

He drove into her with force just short of violence. Hawke cried out, in pain, in wonder. She was full. Finally full.

Fenris grunted and squeezed his eyes shut. He pulled out and slammed back into her.

Again and again he drove into her. The tile seams bit into her back. She felt the throbbing stretch every time he sheathed himself in her. But she didn’t care. She wanted more. Every thrust, every inch. He drove into her again with barely controlled violence.

“Am I hurting you?”

He ground out the words through gritted teeth. Concern warring with want. She knew what he needed.

“Yes. And I want more.”

His eyes darkened. “I’m not going to be able to stop if I let go.”

“Let go.” She gave him a greedy little squeeze as she said it.

His eyes instantly glazed over and she knew she won. He slammed into her over and over again, the speed quickening to a frantic pace.

She reached up to touch his face but in one swift movement Fenris grabbed both her wrists and had her pinned to the floor with on hand. Taken aback, she struggled for a split second before submitting to this show of dominance. 

Fuck, this beastly side of his was so incredibly sexy. She definitely wanted more of this.

Hawke felt her breasts tremble with every thrust. He was propelled by need and wanted to fuck her until she was raw. The pace was so furious she could only take what he gave her. Could only cling and ride. Another orgasm was racing up inside her.

"Who do you belong to?" He growled, pulling her hair.

"I belong to you!" She cried, panting.

"Say my name." He commanded.

“Fenris!” She cried. "I belong to you, Fenris!"

He dove forward onto her, pressing her into the floor with his weight and continued to hammer into her. He grunted with each fierce thrust. It hit her like lightning. Her entire body electrified as the orgasm exploded around his thick shaft. He drove into her, pacing each wave with a violent rhythm.

Hawke buried her face against his bare shoulder. She couldn’t even scream as the brutal sensations destroyed her. He grunted again, a primal sound. She felt the first, hot surge of his semen let loose deep inside her. The last waves of her orgasm choked his shaft on the next thrust. He stayed deep inside, thrusting to the hilt as he came over and over again inside her. It was her name on his lips.

* * *

There were bruises already forming at her wrists. 

He knew he had hurt her. He'd been too rough.

_Where is your self control?_

Fenris was disgusted at himself.

He let himself go and lost control. Hawke had no idea what lurked beneath the surface. He had no right to take her like that. He had no right to say those things to her...

She pulled herself up and he saw the tiny scratches on her back from the kitchen tiles. How could he had let this happen?

"Sooooo...." She was breathing deeply still, but managed to adjust her breast band back in place. "Want to talk about what all _that_ was about? I had a feeling you were the jealous type, but that was... unexpected."

"I'm not anyone's 'type', Hawke."

"Except mine, apparently." She chuckled. "No one's left me quite this sore before."

"It can't happen again."

"Wait, what?"

"It was a ... It was a momentary lapse in my judgement. It was my fault." He stood up. "I am sorry, Hawke. Truly, I am."

"I can't believe you're going to fucking do this again." She breathed, nostrils flaring. "What am I to you, Fenris? A cheap fuck to take your frustrations out on?"

"No, I -"

"Are you at least going to explain yourself this time?" She growled. He knew she holding back her tongue from calling him every dirty name in her book. "You fucking owe me a better explanation, damn it!"

"I lost control. I'm sorry. It will not happen again."

"Oh, please. You enjoyed that just as much as I did." She scoffed. "You're _still_ going to tell me we can't continue  _this_? You still think I can't handle myself against Danarius? He's not a threat to any of us when he's halfway across the ocean. What explanation are you going to give me this time, hm? You can't be with me because you're scared he'll find out about me and try to kill me or something?"

"Yes."

"Well, same counter-argument from last time: I have people trying to murder me all the time; one more isn't going to make that much of a difference." She looked at him but all he did was stare at her grimly. "So what? No more of  _this?_ We're back to square one? Are you not going to talk to me again? Because clearly  _that_ was a good solution." She nodded pointedly at the spot in the kitchen where they just fucked.

"Hawke, I'm sorry. I can't take that risk. There have already been too many people who have died for my sake. I couldn't... I couldn't bear the idea of losing you too."

"How romantic," Her sarcastic words stung like poison. "How about instead of treating me like a fucking damsel you let me and your other friends help you out because we're stronger than you think we are?"

"I can't... we can't let you - or anyone else - risk yourself for me. This can't continue, Hawke. My word is final."

"Stop trying to be a hero and let us help you, you stubborn elf!" She stamped. 

"Hawke. My word is final."

"Are you fucking kidding me? Even after all this time, you still can't trust us?" 

"It's not you I don't trust." He shook his head. "Please, Hawke. I am sorry this happened. It was not - I - I never meant to hurt you again."

"Well, it's too late now." She rolled her eyes, pulling on her boots in his foyer.

"I deserve to be called every name in the book. I sincerely hope you will forgive me for this. But my problems  - my problems are my own. They are not yours to dwell on. Please, just walk away from this."

She stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open. Absolutely livid and flabbergasted.

"How about _you_ learn not to take out yourfrustrations on other people?" She snarled, fists balling up at her sides. "You can't just use them whenever and however you want! I'm not a toy for you to throw away!"

"I am sorry for earlier. I truly am. I will apologize to Anders tomorrow."

"Fuck you," She snarled, grabbing her bow from the foyer. "See you tomorrow, bright and early, asshole."

The door slammed shut violently behind her and practically all the paintings on the walls came crashing down from the impact. 


	3. Change Of Plan (Fenris x Hawke)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Hawke leaves him, Fenris is left brooding over the past and how to deal with Danarius on his own. Meanwhile, Hawke is seething and now has to deal with Anders' confession of love for her...
> 
> FLASHBACK SMUT SCENE AHEAD

Fenris heard the hinges to his door screaming back at him for the unnecessary abuse. The eerie portraits on the walls lay shattered on the carpet floors of his home, and the pink vase on the messy table toppled over, spilling out the withered flowers that had been there for ages. Dust and cobwebs flew in the air for a few seconds before settling down again. The house creaked at the behest of its new owner, as well as the angry woman who had slammed the door to his mansion so hard the building seemed to almost collapse.

Spiders crawled everywhere but his mansion always looked ransacked anyway. He didn't care. It didn't matter; it wasn't even his mansion anyway.

And it wasn't even the mansion he wanted to tear apart piece by piece.

 _What did you do?_ He yelled at himself. _Were you trying to help her or hurt her? Why couldn't you just fucking control yourself?_

He had fucked up and made her even angrier. And now she was probably going to go see her friends to make herself feel better.

Probably Anders. 

Anders, who clearly said many times he was attracted to her.

_And I drove her to him. Me._

_It's probably for the better anyway. S_ _he's better off with him. You can't give her anything. You can barely even provide for yourself, much less someone else. Besides, h_ _e's not... a bad man._

But the thought made his stomach churn and boil. 

 

> _Are you fucking kidding me? Even after all this time, you still can't trust us?"_
> 
> _"It's not you I don't trust." He shook his head._

_**It's me**. I don't trust myself. _ He grimaced.

Fenris knew the moment Hawke dragged him inside for a private chat that she sought answers. 

And what did he give her instead? One quick shag and a broken heart, **_again_**.

 _You're an asshole. Congratulations._ He told himself, staring at this own despicable face in the cracked mirror. 

_You deserve this. This regret. This sorrow. This agony. You deserve all of this._

_You were terrible to her; did you expect her to wait around for you forever until Danarius breathes his last? A woman like Hawke has suitors lining out the door. How could you even compare? Abandon these stupid, naive ideas now; it'll only end in heartbreak. Better end it now than later._

Hawke looked confused, angry, and utterly devastated.

She deserved answers. He was going to answer them - some of them at least. 

But he also didn't want her thinking they were going to resume being intimate partners.

 _Well, so much for that,_ the annoying voice in his head goaded.

Hawke would have to understand that he wasn't ready for that commitment. Not with everything else looming in the back of his mind. He simply couldn't afford to allow the possibility.

Fenris had been pensive today. As they trekked through the sandy dunes along the coast listening to the whispering waves of the sea, he thought of ways to express his regret to her. He didn't know how to read or write, but he certainly had drafted a speech in mind.

He thought to answer her questions - to tell her exactly what kind of 'connection' he had with his former master. The night he tried to explain it, the words came out in the form of a jumbled mess and he ended up walking out of her bedroom without a single word, overwhelmed by the realness of it all. Their first coupling had been a spur of the moment event - he hadn't been in control of himself - he had let go of his self-restraint.

This time, he had recited the words in his head, prepared to pull Hawke aside at some point today to tell her everything she wanted to know. He knew there was no way he would miraculously cure all the hurt that he had inflicted on her, but he hoped that his words could give her a little closure at least.

 _But instead you decided fuck her and answer none of her questions_.

Hawke probably thought he was a coward. She probably thought he was a huge jackass who shagged her senseless like a common whore from the Blooming Rose. That's why she blushed so furiously every time he glanced at her. She was probably too ashamed to look at him. He knew he had humiliated her by sleeping and then leaving her in a single night. 

That's why she tried to distance herself from him. She probably assumed he intended for her to be a quick lay. 

He had to tell her nothing could possibly be any further from the truth. He had to tell her he did care for her a great deal. So great were his feelings for her that it made leaving her that night so much more painful to endure. 

But....

As long as Danarius breathed, Fenris - and his friends - were not safe. This was especially the case for Hawke.

What if Danarius could delve far enough into his thoughts to find out how much she meant to him? There was no telling what could happen. For starters, the slavers would not only be on the lookout for Fenris. They attempt to use Hawke as bait, knowing Fenris would follow after her.

Just the idea of Hawke being dragged in chains before Danarius was enough to make him want to vomit.

Killing Danarius seemed simple enough - but what of Fenris' sister, Varania? If Hadriana spoke the truth, then he had to find her. 

 _I must know._ Fenris told himself.  _I need to know where she is and find a way to save her from the Imperium. She is the last remaining relative I have. She may have answers I need. She may know about that... that woman in my dreams. If I find Varania, I may not even need to hold off keeping Danarius alive. Then that would make things easier. But..._

Even if all that was resolved - even if he found his answers from Danarius and Varania - _Could he really aspire to spend the rest of his life with Hawke, a human noble?_

Fenris sunk deep into the soft, dusty couch sitting in the large library of his dilapidated mansion. Tiny dust sprites shot into the air as he fell, defeated.

He had concocted a dream that was too good to be true. He had lied to himself.

_Hawke deserves more than I could give. She deserves so much more._

What did have to offer her? He, who was a runaway slave. He, who had nothing to his name.

He, who didn't even know his own name.

He was a former slave; he was a elf. There was no way gossip wouldn't spread. She was a celebrity in Kirkwall; she had suitors lining out at her front doorstep. The very basis of their relationship would be scorned upon, and it would only serve to hurt her reputation. Leandra Hawke was keen on seeing her daughter married to a well-off man, and Fenris was anything but. 

What could he offer her but his burdens? He asked too much of her, and he knew she would be more than willing to oblige. That was one of the reasons he had to leave.

_I should've never..._

Yet again, he indulged himself like some sort of feral, uncontrollable beast. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he control his primal instincts when it came to her? What was it about her that made him act like that? Did she have some sort of spell over him? Was he attracted to her because of her willingness to help him, no matter what the circumstances? 

_Probably._

When she glanced at him at the market, he had been staring at her the entire time – those swaying hips, long locks of hair, and those voluptuous curves. How could he _not_ stare? He felt angry at himself for acting so foolish and callow. He told himself numerous times what he was experiencing was a momentary lapse in judgment - a lust that could be easily remedied. But in actuality, it was harder to push down the feelings he harbored, and he could not stop himself from being drawn to her like a bee to nectar.

But then there was Anders.

Anders, who Fenris considered - against all odds - his friend.

_Well, maybe not friend. More like an ally, really._

Although, 'rival' also seemed to be a suitable term these days for Anders. Fenris certainly didn't enjoy watching all the shameless flirting. It was bad enough that Hawke often indulged everyone with her flirtatious nature. Fenris didn't need Anders getting funny ideas.

Perhaps he had been too harsh with his words that evening. He hadn't intended on making Hawke seem like a prize to be won; it certainly wasn't his intention to speak of her like she was a slab of meat. 

 

 

 

> _"That's enough!" Hawke spoke up, trying to gain control of her party. "Fenris, we need to talk -"_
> 
> _"He's not a child, Hawke." Anders frowned. "He can go home on his own."_
> 
> _Hawke shook her head firmly and angrily grabbed Fenris by the arm._
> 
> _"No, I need to talk to him now. Alone." She told Anders, more aggressively than she intended. "I'll meet you at the clinic within the hour, Anders."_

_Of course_ she had gone to visit Anders. Because apparently, the healer needed help with... something.

If he were _just_ asking her for help, Fenris would've gladly felt no hostility to Anders, even though he was a mage. But the frustration of knowing she was spending the evening with Anders, who harbored a obvious attraction to her, fueled Fenris' jealousy and rage.

Fenris frowned, his thumb glossing over the hilt of his sword.

What was it about the apostate that made everyone so enamored with him anyway? What about him was so attractive? 

He was a apostate mage.  _An apostate._  Hawke did know that they were illegal, didn't she?

They argued about it numerous times: the age-long issue of mages. Hawke knew where Fenris stood on the subject and refused to take sides, especially when he and Anders were at each others' throats. She made it clear that she did not like endorsing their cantankerous disputes, yet whenever it came up as a topic of discussion Fenris found that Hawke more often than not sided with Anders. His one consolation rested in knowing Hawke harbored deeper feelings for him over Anders. 

Fenris paced around anxiously.

He could've gone to the Hanged Man to have a drink with Isabela or play a round of cards with Varric – but he knew he had a habit of talking too much when he got drunk, and since he did not feel like sharing his personal drama with the rest of the crew, he decided against it.

Hawke never mentioned their night together to anyone, so he assumed it was a given agreement that they would keep their night a secret. 

A dirty, ugly little secret.

Finally, he let out a sigh and let himself fall onto the bed. He had plenty to worry about, such as Danarius and finding his sister.

Maker damn him, why couldn't he get himself to focus? 

His mind wandered to thoughts of his budding relationship with her:

That night he had talked to Hawke about his long-forgotten past was when he first saw her as more than a friend. 

Hawke, the beautiful, loving person she was who only wanted to help those in need ...

* * *

 "It's barely noon, Fenris. Are you drunk?" Hawke laughed, taking a seat in his home.

"The last bottle of Agreggio. I've been saving it for a special occasion." Fenris announced triumphantly as he saw Hawke come through the doorway. He was in a good mood that evening, and wanted to share all of it with someone, though he found himself tremendously overjoyed that it had been her who came.

"And what occasion would that be?" 

"The anniversary of my escape!" He told her.

"Your escape?" She took the bottle from him and took a swig before giving it back.

"Astia valla femundis!" He leaned forward, smiling like a fool. But he didn't care. He was in a _great_  mood. "Care to hear the story?"

She giggled at his enthusiasm, which he gathered was a refreshing sight as he was usually being his brooding, pessimist self.

"I enjoy listening to you talk." She winked.

 _Ah, the flirting again._ If he was sober, he would've been embarrassed. But alas, the alcohol had boosted his confidence so instead he returned her flattery:

"And I enjoy a beautiful woman."

He saw her cheeks flush pink at his words.

_Interesting..._

"Let's see…" He looked contemplative for a second. "You've heard of Seheron? The Imperium and the Qunari have fought over the island for centuries now."

She nodded.

"I was there a few times with Danarius. During one occasion though, there was a Qunari attack. I managed to get him safely on a ship, but there was no room for a slave. So I was left behind, and barely got out of the city alive."

"Wait-he left you there?" She looked surprised, blinking. "I thought Danarius considered you valuable?"

"He did." He chuckled. "It wasn't intentional, I assure you. Danarius didn't even know it happened they were halfway across the sea. Oh, to see the look on his face…" He laughed again. "It would've been priceless!"

"So that was when you made your escape?"

Fenris shook his head. "No, back then I had no intention of escaping." He paused for a second. "There were these rebels in the jungles called Fog Warriors. Some found me and took me in - nursed me back to health. I stayed with them until Danarius came for me."

"I take it he was thrilled to see you survived."

"Or that his investment didn't end up in Qunari hands." He took another swig straight from the bottle. "I had grown fond of the rebels by then. They bowed to no master and fought for their freedom. It was… beyond my experience."

"What do you mean?"

"Slaves… they don't think. They just focus on the next day, what best to do to serve. They're happy that way. When Danarius came for me, I thought the dream was over. Back to work. The Fog Warriors, though… they refused to let him just take me. They fought him. While I was just trying to return to my master. Danarius caught sight of me and ordered me to kill them. So I did. I killed them all."

There was no hiding the fear in her eyes as she heard this.

Fenris' heart sunk, thinking that she now saw him as a monster.

 _You're drunk. Again._ _This was a bad idea... Why did you go an tell her **that** story?_

Then he felt her hand on his knee. He flinched at her touch. Their eyes met and he realized that the look of fear in her eyes had dissipated and was now replaced with a gaze of understanding... and condolences.

It was... consoling. And he felt like perhaps he could... perhaps he could be honest and real - and have a  _real_ conversation with her.

"You thought the dream was over?" 

"Yes. It felt inevitable. My master had returned and this… this fantasy life was over." He gazed at his hand entwined with hers blankly. "Once it was done ... once I saw the bodies on the ground, I felt… I couldn't…" He stared at her, a sadness pooling in his eyes. "I ran. I ran as fast as I could, and didn't look back."

"This can't be easy to talk about." Hawke whispered.

"No, it's not." He took another swig. "I've never spoken to anyone about it though. I never wanted to." Then he smiled, feeling a heavy weight suddenly lifted from his chest.

_You are not alone anymore._

"But with you, it's different. Perhaps that's what it means to have a friend. I've never allowed anyone close. Never wanted anyone. But you… you're different."

"And now _that's_ the drink talking," She laughed, cheeks pink and rosy again. 

He laughed sheepishly in agreement but continued to drink anyway.

She leaned over to take a swig too. And soon, they were both happily drunk together. 

That night, they fell asleep next to each other on the carpet in front of the fire in his living room. Her head rested against his shoulder and his chin nestled into her hair.

* * *

 Months passed by, and one day he found himself sitting in the lobby of the Hawke Estate.

Hours ticked by. Not much had transpired since, save for Bodahn giving him a strange look every now and then. He nevertheless asked patiently to be allowed to wait for their master to return, and nervously sat down in the foyer bench.

He had no idea what to say. He was acting on impulse. But the desires had only grew stronger. He tried to suppress the urges, but it felt as though there was a desire demon nipping at his toes constantly. He was about to explode.

How many times had he thought of this? Was it really going to happen? What would she think?

His elven ears quickly caught her nearing footsteps. They were light and delicate, but he was used to them by now. His heart fluttered about, his body grew hot, and he knew this was the moment.

"Fenris?" Her voice indicated that she was feeling normal, not cautious, not annoyed, not tired – just a concerned friend.

_A friend._

But he did not want that. He wanted more.

He looked her straight in the eyes. Those olive eyes stared back, and he was so close to sweeping her off her feet and carrying her into the bedroom, ready to ravish her – but he contained it. Barely.

He couldn't talk. He couldn't put thoughts into words. He wanted to explain, to give her a long explanation and tell her she should indulge in this fantasy of his - but all of a sudden his brain couldn't work and all that came out was:

"I've been thinking about you. In fact, I've been able to think about little else."

He gazed into her eyes, torn between which to hope for: her acceptance, or her rejection.

"Command me to go, and I shall." He swallowed.

_This was out of control. You're out of control. Rein it in. Suppress it. Now is not the time, damn it!_

_No. Damn the consequences._

He had already gone past the point of no return. At least if she rejected him he could sleep well knowing that he tried, and that everything was done and over with. At least then he'd know his affections were one-sided. Maybe then he would stop feeling so utterly helpless and downright stupid.

"No need." She said gently, her eyes looking like soft, misty pearls.

That moment she kissed him could not be captured by words:

There was singing in the back of his head. Glorious lights. Fireworks. The whole ordeal. Varric could write a book.

The growing desire between them erupted. Fenris did exactly what he had been desiring for weeks:

He grabbed her by the waist, pulled her close, and kissed her hungrily. He ran his hand through her hair, suddenly wishing that he was not wearing his gauntlets just so he could feel her flesh against his skin. 

He knew what he wanted to do. He didn't care about the tiny voice warning him in the back of his head.

The moment they pulled away from each other, he could tell she wanted more. But everything happened so fast he had little time to prepare or fully comprehend what even happened. One moment he was kissing her passionately, and the next moment she had pushed him up against the wall, and kissed him back in a savagely manner that surprised him beyond belief. He never imagined Hawke to be so... straight-forward.

"Come with me." She whispered silently into his sensitive ears and clasped his hand.

They walked into the lobby, Bodahn nodding towards Fenris in acknowledgement.

But all Fenris wanted to pay attention to was Hawke. He followed her up the stairs, his eyes never leaving her, to her bedroom – where she shut the door and proceeded to shower his neck with kisses again. His hands brushed against the skin under her blouse and he groaned at the softness.

"Hawke..." He whispered into her neck as he felt her tug at the belt of his armor. Her eagerness for him made him feel incredibly good, a proud lion roaring in his chest.

As she undid his belt, he grabbed her thighs and hoisted her up, closer to him. He wanted to feel the softness of her skin against him. 

He stepped backwards, being as careful as he could with what little balance he had. Slowly, they made it onto her bed, where she saddled on top of him, planting kisses down his neck and undressing him hastily as he did her. Their skin hot with frenzied desire, and their breath heavy with need.

She was beautiful even with the scars. All of the fantasies he had would be nothing compared to this. He desired to explore her body, and make her his. It was a desire that burned with a passion he could not place into words.

He watched her pull her blouse above her head, undressing before him. He took one moment to gaze at her naked body before he sat up, startling her. He caught her from falling off the bed her by the small of her back, and turned her over to straddle her.

Her eyes lit up in excitement the moment he wrestled her in the bed, pinning her wrists down and staring down at her, searching for her reaction to his dominance. There was a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, and he knew she was enjoying this. Good, because he was unsure if she preferred it the other way around.

She grinned. "This was more than I was hoping for..."

His heart was beating fast. But then - there was a voice of alarm going off in his head. He shouldn't. He couldn't. Was this really such a good idea?

_We shouldn't..._

He murmured to himself, but it didn't sound convincing enough at all.

"What?" Hawke asked between kisses on his neck.

"I ... I can't ...I mean - Only my - only in my wildest dreams has this..." His mouth was dry.

Damn, he sounded like an idiot.

She giggled and leaned in close to whisper into his ear:

"In my dreams, I have done so much more." 

His ears twitched, as did a certain part of his lower body.

"Oh?" He pulled away, shooting her a devious smirk.

His hands that pinned her down to the bed slid up to her hands, where their fingers laced together like a ribbon on top of a well-wrapped gift.

"Now that you mention them, I'm curious: Tell me of these fantasies, Fenris." She spoke quietly. "I want to know. In detail."

Her legs rose to grind against him, but he stopped her, hesitant.

“Don’t,” his voice strained. “I'm not at liberty divulge that information. It is... not appropriate."

She laughed. "You have me pinned to my bed, we're both pretty much naked, and you worry about sounding 'appropriate'?"

He chuckled. "You... have a fair point."

"So?" She rose a brow. "Tell me. I want to know."

"You shouldn't." He warned, leaning down so that their noses touched. "Not unless you want to find out just what sort of thing a man desires.”

She paused, her expression unreadable in the dim light.

"Intriguing," she whispered, eyes twinkling. "I still want to know. I want to know what  _this_  man in particular desires."

A part of Fenris knew he shouldn't have come to her. A part of him knew he was putting her closer to danger than he preferred. Still, he had been compelled to go to her. To see her. To take a chance. _Hoping his self-control would fail him._

It was.

"I think it obvious," he told her. "I desire you. I've desired you for a long time."

"Well, the feeling is _obviously_ mutual." She smiled. "But I like hearing you talk. So tell me, what desires would you have of me, oh ser warrior?"

He twitched again at her utterance of the word 'ser'. A image of Hawke on her hands and knees servicing him was enough to make him want to bury himself deep inside her again and again until she called out his name as though it were the Chant of Light. 

“What would you want to know? How much I have thought of you?” he said, speaking what he knew he should not. In the hopes of seeing desire in her eyes. In the hopes of turning her on as much as she did him. “You want to know how much I have thought of touching you? Of tasting you? Would you like every intimate detail?"

"Yes," She replied breathlessly, slowly grinding into him. "Please, Fenris... tell me."

_Never in a million years would he have pinned Hawke for having a voice fetish. But at least now he knew. He intended to make good use of it._

"I have thought of you in ways I have thought of no one else. I've thought of how you would taste on my lips." He brushed his lips against her ear.

He released one of her wrists to slowly trail a hand down her stomach.

"I want feel your desire coating my fingers. Do you know how much I want that?”

The words came from deep in him, from a place he had denied for so long. Hawke looked at him eagerly - hungrily. 

“I would take you,” he continued. “I would make you mine.”

Her breasts rose and fell on a sharp breath. “Take me, then.”

Her words stabbed him, a pang of lust assaulting him, breaking at the bonds of his control, stretching them to their limit.

"I will make you mine." He whispered in her ear, his voice dripping with conviction. He grabbed her supple breast, grinding against her as she let out a soft moan. He wanted to hear more of it. He wanted to hear her scream. He slowly started grinding rhythmically into her as he spoke: "Mine. Again and again. Until I had you begging for mercy."

He had lost control of himself. And he was enjoying every second of it.

It was too late to go back anyway.

"Fenris..." She stammered, out of breath from his kisses. "Maker, this. This is ... This all sounds _very enticing_."

He chuckled. "Hawke - slayer of axe-welding bandits and giant behemoths - enjoys being tossed around in bed and dirty talk?"

"Only when it comes to _your_ voice." 

"Flattery will only get you  _so_ far, minx." He grinned, leaning over to kiss her on the forhead. "I intend to take full advantage of this new discovery, I assure you."

"Don't be so confident." She smirked. "Don't pretend you wouldn't enjoy me whispering a dirty thing to you here and there..."

She tried to wrap her hands around his neck, but he caught her wrists and forcefully pinned her down while he sucked softly at her neck. She groaned and raised her legs up instead to wrap around his waist, drawing him closer to her so that his aroused member ground right against her wetness. 

She wanted him. But he was not about to give her the satisfaction. At least, not yet.

She was powerless against him on the bed, and he knew it. Smirking, Fenris dove in to plant his own marks on her neck, her collarbone, all the way down to her chest. By the time he made it to her perky nipples, she was madly shifting around beneath him, rubbing herself against his hard length.

Too bad he was holding her down. As long as he remained on top, he was going to make her work for it. He had waited too long for this to stop now.

He carefully started licking her pink nipples, making her shudder ever so slightly. He teased her for a long time that way, and started sucking on them until her breaths fastened, her chest heaved uncontrollably, and her wrists struggled to get out of his grasp.

"Please..." She said, out of breath. "Fenris, please... let me..."

"Let you?" He asked, eyebrows raised. "Let you what? Say it."

Her face flushed pink, and she turned away, shy and afraid to speak her mind.

"OW!"

He bit her nipple, and he was sure that startled exclamation what partly due to the excitement and partly to the pain.

"Fenris...", she groaned, pleading.

He had no intentions of letting her have her way. He wickedly smiled, watching her squirm and get frustrated, feeling how wet she got as he pressed against her more. She was enjoying this as much as he was, it seemed.

He looked up at her from teasing her nipples and smirked once more. "Tell me what you want. Use your words."

"I... I can't!"

She gritted her teeth, frustrated even further. She was not raised to say such crude things to others, so being forced to was both exciting and embarrassing for her. Nevertheless, he was surprised to find that she actually liked this style of bedroom play. It sure gave him an erection fast.

"I want you to..." She started, but was unable to finish her sentence.

"Yes?"

"I want you inside me," She pleaded, her face red in embarrassment. "Please, Fenris. I want you to make me yours."

He paused for a second, as if he had to contemplate the idea, but eventually let her wrists go and allowed her the freedom to touch him. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him close, kissing him fiercely until he swore she had drawn blood from his lips. Meanwhile, her other hand traced his chest, down to his abdomen. He felt the hairs on his skin rise in anticipation.

Slowly, she lowered herself slightly, her hands still tracing over his body until they found his erect, hard cock. She held it with a firmness that made him close his eyes to try to gather himself once more. As she gently licked his ears and breathed, letting out soft moans that only he could hear, he suddenly felt weak to his knees, knowing he would be unable to take her teasing much longer.

Still, there was something about making her say such dirty sentences that made everything so much more enjoyable to him. He wanted her to plead to him, and to scream for him to pleasure her. It was only the past few days while he had fantasized about her nonstop that he realized what a sadist he had become for her. He enjoyed keeping her sexually frustrated and teasing her - it made his reward sweeter. But he was not sure how much more he could take of her stroking his member in her hands.

"Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it." He ordered, stopping her hands once more.

He bent over to squeeze her ample breasts, pulling at them. He pinched the hard nipples until they got harder; the twisting and pulling made his desires grow even stronger. Her moans got louder, and he moved against her until his cock was right at the opening of her cunt. He moved himself for a little while, torturing and teasing her as he saw fit. She squirmed uncomfortably, and longingly. He then moved his hand down, towards her visibly swollen clit. He had hungered to touch her body, to taste her, and do all of the things he had fantasized about. This was his chance.

"Oh, Fenris!" she cried out, desperately. "No, don't-"

His two fingers found touched her narrow entrance gently, while his thumb fondled her clit.

"Maker!"

He penetrated her easily, seeing how wet she already was. Her scent pervaded the air as he fucked her with his fingers.

"I want you," she replied breathlessly, rubbing her against his fingers harder. It was hot and wet – more than ready for him. She started to pound against his fingers, but he did not want her having all the fun. Not yet, at least.

He pulled his fingers out of her, revealing the sticky juices that followed. She blushed as she watched him lick his fingers, tasting her sweet honey. He then lowered himself to her again, but made no advances to penetrate her still. He was so close to burying himself inside her inviting sweet spot.

He proceeded to grind up against her in return, grabbing his own member to nudge it against her clitoris. The smell of their arousal pervaded the room, and only fed his desire for her more.

"You already have me. I'm right in front of you. Perhaps you should be more specific, Hawke." He ordered as he listened to her breaths fasten again, her chest heaving, and her face longing for his touch.

"Please," she swallowed. "Please, Fenris, I want your cock inside me. Please give it to me."

Those words were just too much for him to take. At that moment, he plunged himself inside her in a split second. She gasped as he penetrated her, letting out a small scream. Her hands grabbed at the sheets on the bed erratically.

_Maker, this felt so right._

He wondered for a second whether she was in pain or not. Though this wasn't her first time, he didn't want her to hurt. He wanted her to enjoy this as much as he did. He glanced her aroused face, searching for answers, but she spoke first.

"Don't hesitate," She whispered, as if she knew what he was thinking. "I'm enjoying it. Please, do what you wish, Fenris."

"Are you sure you want to tempt me with that offer?" He asked as he shifted inside of her little cunt slowly, in and out. This was too good to be true. He felt overjoyed, and it was driving him crazy.

She nodded.

He pulled her up by the arms and had her sit in his lap, gazing into her eyes as he grabbed her ass, letting her ride him to her heart's content. He clenched his teeth, loving the noises she made as she rode him.

"Oh, Maker... Hawke." He groaned for the first time in pure ecstasy. _She felt so good._

She grabbed his hands, twirling their fingers together as she rocked up and down steadily.

But he knew what was to come. He felt her start to twitch, and knew that she was nearing her climax. And he couldn't let that happen yet.

Suddenly, he slapped her gently on the ass, and flipped her over so that she was on all fours for him, showing him that voluptuous hind that he so often gazed at when they traveled.

"Fenris?" She whined. She had been so close to climax.

"I can't let you have all the fun by yourself, now can I?" He answered, grabbing her by the waist and plunging himself so deep inside her that she had to gasp for air.

He wanted her to need him, to long for him, to plead to him, and love him. He plunged deepr and deeper insider her, in and out, in and out. Each time, her moans got louder. She even set her head down into the pillows to stifle her moans, which made his view even more pleasant as he stared at her helplessness: grabbing at the pillows while he rammed into her from behind, the voluptuous curves of her backside jiggling every time.

"Oh Maker," he whispered as he near his own climax. "Come for me, Hawke."

She had been ready for these words for a while now. She had fantasized him uttering those words to her in that deep, refined accent she found so appealing. This did it for her. She came down on him so frantically, chanting his name like it was the only thing she knew. It only took a split second afterward for him to fill her delicate body with his seed.

But in that moment, something happened:

_Hawke disappeared from his visions, and his burning sensation was no longer of a pleasant kind._

_Images of a strangely familiar past came rushing towards him:_

_A woman with blonde hair, a man with black hair. Elvish people, who lived in some sort of community – he couldn't tell where it was. All he knew what that his insides burned and his head was on fire._

**_"Where are you, little Fenris?"_ **

_Danarius!_

_A pair of familiar gray eyes was staring back at him. His face was right there - eyes wide - peering, eager, overjoyed, **evil**. _

_Fenris swore he could feel Danarius' breath on his face - that familiar aroma of burning incense filling his senses._

_Fenris panicked, turning left and right to try finding Hawke. His friends. Anyone._

_Was this a nightmare? Am I dreaming? Is this real? Was any of it real?_

**_"I see you."_ **

_Fenris let out a barely audible gasp. Danarius gazed at him with a evil loathing. A sick desire, fueled with sadistic passion and pain, his eyes piercing deep into Fenris' soul. Looking for him. Absolutely livid. Absolutely horrific._

The images quickly faded, and so did the pain.

When he came back to his sense, he realized that he had been standing in front of Hawke still. But she was panting and did not notice his suddenly departure from reality. 

_What **was** that?_

He decided not to think about it for the moment.

He waited for her insides to stop twitching before he pulled out of her. But even after he was finished, he couldn't resist gazing at the scene of her laying in bed, ass raised, his seed trickling down her thighs.

She took several deep breaths before she calmed down, and as did he. His heart was racing, his head pounding, and he felt so worn out. When they gained their strength, the two put their undergarments back on.

Fenris walked over to his love, and planted a kiss on her sweet lips before sitting down in bed with her, the both of them naked and still hot from their activities. She rolled over in the bed, made a soft moan of satisfaction and relaxation, and laid herself right beside him in bed.

"Damn, that felt so good." She confessed. "Way better than I imagined..."

He would've snidely asked exactly how often she imagined them going at it, but there were suddenly other things on his mind.

They fell asleep after that, but Fenris could not stop thinking about the visions he had experienced. They were painful, both physically and mentally.

He had been SO CLOSE. So close to finding out about his past. A part of him wanted to know desperately what he was like before he became Danarius pet. But the other part of him was afraid to find out...

He looked over at Hawke, who laid on his shoulder, sleeping.

_I can't do this._

* * *

_Fuck Fenris._

Hawke was beyond livid.

She was currently power-walking her way through dimly-lit Darktown, seething at the teeth.

The moment she walked through Anders' clinic, the smell of herbs, wound salves, bandages, and sickness replaced the putridness of the Darktown alleyways. His helpers only amounted to a few, and none of them as skilled as he. He made some coin off his charitable work, though not nearly enough to get by on meals. Clearly glory and money were not contributing incentives for Anders' profession as a healer. Most of his clients were too poor to afford a legitimate healer, or were also apostates themselves.

"Hawke! You're here!"

Being here calmed her nerves. 

It reminded her why she enjoyed helping people. It reminded her how good it felt to make something of her life - to help those in need - not for fame or fortune, not for glory or greed - but for herself. 

There was a silver crest at Anders' desk with a griffon engraving in the center. It looked well-polished and looked like some sort of belt buckle. It seemed too flashy for Anders' taste but he seemed to like it enough to keep in on the small shelf above his desk.

"Here. Take a seat over there. I'm going to try finishing this up soon. Want to lend a hand?"

Hawke wondered if Anders missed being a Warden, traveling with the Hero of Ferelden – Queen of Ferelden - whatever she was called nowadays. But he probably didn't, seeing how he ran from them. She was surprised that he hadn't been chased down. Then again, with the Blight over Grey Wardens were hardly in demand.

There were fewer patients tonight than normal, but Anders had gone straight to work anyway.

Hawke took to the chair next to his operating table, helping him when she could by tossing him supplies as he dressed his patients' wounds. She washed the water basins clean several times and reapplied bandages on those who needed it. She helped Anders brew more healing salves and elfroot potions by the batch until the late hours of the night.

"Thanks for all the help, Hawke."

"Not a problem." She grinned, all rage slowly dissipating.

The work helped her take her mind off more bothersome issues swirling in her mind. 

 _That's me. I'm a helper._  She rolled her eyes.  _Too bad I couldn't fucking help myself to Fenris._

By the time they were done burning the midnight oil, she was tired and sleepy but nonetheless happy to be of help to Anders. He led her to the empty cot near his desk. Papers scattered around the sheets in a disorganized fashion and it smelled like berries and spindleweed powder. Hawke laid down on the pillows, finding comfort in her momentary rest.

"Stay here. I have to talk to you about something. I'll be right back." He said eagerly with a smile.

Then he went off to help his associate apply the bandages to the young boy lying in the cot on the ground.

Too tired to argue, Hawke closed her eyes and settled down on the empty, soft cot. She laid there for a while waiting for Anders' return but eventually drifted off, the thoughts of a certain lyrium-marked elf on her mind...

* * *

"Where is he now?"

"Still in the Free Marches, my lord. In Kirkwall, I believe."

"Can't we just kill him?"

"No!" Danarius glared at the dark-haired, hot-tempered young man who spoke out of turn, yet again.

"My lord, he seems to have made certain beneficial connections with some people of interest there. Higher members of their society, I'm told..."

"Ah, yes. So it seems." Danarius smiled to himself. "I _am_ proud of him, for once." 

"You have me. You don't need him anymore!"

"Quiet, Silas! Don't make yourself out to be a fool! Respect the masters' wishes and hold your tongue!"

"I understand your eagerness, Silas, but my dear Fenris needs to be here, with me. He... he is very vulnerable without me and..." Danarius' long, bony fingers trembled as he spoke. "And he needs to be here before he remembers."

"Hadriana has already died, master. If you had sent me -"

"Yes, that  _was_ disappointing, wasn't it? She was quite skilled, too."

"He might want to kill you too, master."

Danarius laughed. "You silly fool. I  _know_  Fenris wants to kill me."

"You're not scared, master?"

"Scared? No, no, no... He can't kill me until I tell him what he wants to know." Danarius stared darkly into his wine glass, twirling the stem between his fingers. He took a sip. "That silly boy; I'm trying to protect him from himself. Because once he remembers it all,  _he'll want to kill **himself."**_

"Should we send more after him?"

"Obviously," Danarius replied icily. "But this time, I have more precise instructions for you."

_My little wolf, you are causing me quite a pretty coin. But I **will** take you back._

* * *

 When Hawke awoke, the first thing she noticed was the smell. She was definitely in Darktown – in Anders' clinic. How long had she slept? Where was Anders?

She looked around, and impulsively grabbed her daggers on the table beside the bed. Someone had removed them from her gear and set them neatly beside her. Not only that, but she was also laying in a warm bed with soft, faded lavender covers washed over her.

It took Hawke a few minutes to gather herself and think back on what had happened.

Hightown. She had been walking around with her friends. They were shopping. Then Anders and Fenris got into a little spat and she had to break it up, as usual.

_Oh, right. Then I dragged Fenris' sorry ass back to his home where we fucked. Then he proceeded to reject my offer for help **again** , and I stormed off._

And now she felt her rage and irritation creeping back into her bones. 

Not one of her friends knew about her one-night stand with Fenris. The exception, of course, was Varric. She had told the dwarf on one occasion - when they were drinking. Then they had a long discussion about it the day afterward, whilst both hung over as shit.

"You up from your nap already?" Anders' voice came from behind the clinic partition.

"Unfortunately." She answered groggily.

She got up slowly, and looked around the clinic for the culprit as she fixed the daggers on her back.

_It's getting late._

Anders' patients had either left, or were laying in their cots on the ground.

Walking out from his workspace partition, she spotted Anders immediately a few feet from her from the clinic doorway. She approached him silently and watched as he knelt down, his back to her. She had no idea what he was doing, and was suddenly curious.

"What are you up to?" She asked, walking over.

He didn't seem to be too surprised she was behind him; he was well aware of her presence. Perhaps it was one of the side effects of having a powerful spirit lurking inside of him – it gave him a sixth sense of some sort.

"Putting out milk." He set the dish down and stood up to turn towards her.

He was much taller than her, and it suddenly felt strange to have him so close to her – his height was almost overwhelming. Of course, that was probably because Fenris had been, well, shorter.

Hawke scolded herself for thinking about the damned elf again. She focused her attention to her kind friend instead; Anders was caring and sensitive, and apparently loved cats. Her mother would probably love to have Anders over for tea.

"I miss having a cat around, and think all the refugees have scared them all off." Anders said. Then, in a slightly lower tone, he added, "Or maybe eaten them."

He said this last statement with such a serious face, she didn't know whether to laugh because it was funny, or feel slightly awkward because it might've been true. Either way, she allowed herself to smile slightly.

"Do you feel better now?" He asked.

She nodded. "Yes, I do. Sorry for the inconvenience."

"Don't worry about that." He replied with a warm smile. "You seemed like you needed some good rest is all. Have you not been sleeping well at the manor?"

"You could say that." She replied, not wanting to divulge her personal matters to him so easily. She was still unsure whether to tell the others or not.

"Well, if it is anything I can do to help you, please let me know." He offered, making her smile.

Anders was always nicer to her, and more understanding. Even though there was something troubling her and he knew it, he would not force her to expose herself. There was a mutual respect – and she admired that between them.

Anders was staring into her eyes, looking as though there was something more he wanted to say. She studied him for a few seconds and though she couldn't fathom what he could possibly want to say to her, she gave him time to gather himself anyways.

"You know," he started. "I've been meaning to thank you. You don't need to stick your neck out for the mages here, but you have. You let all those apostates from Starkhaven start over. Maybe they can be an example for the world." His eyes gleamed at her in appreciation, and she was overwhelmed with a sense of pride for her work.

"Well, I try my best. It _would_ obviously prefer for my friends to remain at my side, and not locked up."

It was true; Anders was a good friend of hers, and she did not want him in prison. The war between the templars and the mages was utterly ridiculous. Hawke had seen the troubles and hardships apostates such as her sister had to endure, and she considered herself an advocate of the freedom of mages. Of course, this did not mean that she thought all mages should not be a part of the Circle. The Circle had its purpose, but it should be up to the mages themselves to choose to go or not. Unless, of course, they had a severe problem controlling their powers.

Every time she was charged with a difficult decisions, she made sure to consider both sides of the argument. She wanted to maintain a diplomatic stance in these political times because she did not desire an all-out war. It had to be averted at all costs.

"Including me?"

"Of course," She replied, confused he would even ask. "You are my friend, Anders. It would kill me to see the Templars lock you away."

"I..." His eyes saddened and he looked down, ashamed. "I've tried to hold back. You _saw_ what I almost did to that girl. You've seen what I am."

She reached out to gently touch his arm; she wanted to reassure him that there was a way to separate him from Justice. She would try her hardest to free him from his 'curse', because it was ruining his life.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Anders beat her to it.

"But I am still a man." He stated.

"Yes, and I can help you."

"Hawke, please. You heard what I said this afternoon. I was not joking."

She opened her mouth to speak and then suddenly remembered what happened that afternoon:

 

> _"I am genuine about my feelings."_

_Shit. Anders had said that, hadn't he? He had basically said he was... interested._

_But that couldn't mean anything, could it?_

"You can't tease me like this and expect me to resist forever." Anders told her.

Her tongue caught her throat, and she found herself at a loss.

"You know I have feelings for you, Hawke."

_Shit. Shit. Double shit!_

Had she been leading him on all this time and not known it? Surely there was _some_ part of her that was aware that she had subconsciously been flirting with him. Perhaps this was the root of Fenris' irritation. Perhaps her hostile relationship with the elf had been amplified because of her naivety, or stupidity. Had she seriously flirted with Anders so much yet not been aware of his feelings?

That seemed to be the case.

_Fuck. What did I do?_

_You're always flirting. Could it be that Anders took it seriously? Did you expect him not to? I mean, with Isabela it's all just fun and games but with Anders..._

_You dug yourself into this hole._

"Anders, listen..."

_How could she say this without making it seem awkward?_

"I am very flattered, but..."

She swallowed again. Had she ever had to reject someone  _this_ close before? Not really. But there was a first time for everything. 

"But I'm not... I'm not on the lookout for anything serious right now."

"Oh," The disappointment and heartache in his voice made her feel incredibly guilty.

_Is this the Maker's idea of a joke? I get my heart smashed into pieces, and now I've got to shatter Anders' heart?_

"Well, at least that's one thing I can get closure on." Anders laughed awkwardly. "Better to have asked you and taken the chance than to have never asked at all, I guess."

"Anders, I'm  _really_ sorry." 

"I'm fine, Hawke. Really." Anders reassured her, back to his normal self it seemed. "To be honest, I'm a little relieved too."

"You _are_?"

"It would've been a terrible idea." He laughed again. "I mean, I'm a Grey Warden; I carry the Taint. Besides, with Justice occupying half my time, it wouldn't have worked out anyway."

"Well, that's awfully pessimistic." She crossed her arms.

"Yes, well... seeing what I've seen will make you that way, I'm afraid. Out of curiosity," Anders cleared his throat. "Will there be a time when you will feel ready for, you know, something serious?"

"I'm not... I'm not so sure." Hawke plopped herself down on the cot she had just woken up to. "To be honest, I just... I recently had my heart broken."

"Oh, I see. I am sorry to hear that." Anders sat down next to her, paused for a second before asking: "Was it someone we know? You don't have to answer."

Hawke weighed in on her options. But the idea of talking about her heartache seemed appropriate right now. Anders would understand, right? Or was she being selfish by dumping her emotional baggage on him?

She silently nodded her head, afraid to speak. Her lip was trembling and her hands curled into fists.

"Was it... Fenris?"

She didn't even reply. She didn't need to.

Just the mention of Fenris' name shook her in a painful way. It was aching pain that was mixed with anguish, confusion, and rage.

She turned from Anders, unable to look him in the eyes.

"You two have been acting strange lately, so I put two and two together and figured..."

_Were we obvious? I suppose we were._

_He probably thinks I have terrible tastes. I mean, Anders is caring and nice; he and I have more in common than... Fenris. What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I **really** choosing Fenris over Anders? _

"Do you want to talk about it?" Anders asked quietly.

A tear slowly rolled down her flushed cheek. "Not really. I'm sorry, Anders."

"Oh dear," Anders pulled her into a hug, offering her words of condolences: "Don't... Hawke, don't cry. I'm here. I'm not mad. It's okay. Everything's okay."

She didn't want to burden him. She just rejected his affection for her. He was vulnerable too. Who was she to lay on her own problem on top of it?

"I can't... I shouldn't..." She pulled away from him. "I shouldn't burden you with this. Not after..."

"Hey, we're still friends. And this is what friends are for, aren't they?" 

_Oh, Anders._

She started bawling, hands flying to her running nose and puffy eyes to cover up the ugliness of it all.

She didn't want him seeing her like this. All because of Fenris. How could she, strong-willed and well-grounded Hawke, be crying just because she got dumped by some stupid, stupid man?

Anders held her hand and let her cry to her heart's content.

And he never left her side.

* * *

The walk back towards the mansion was not an easy one. She went through Darktown, through the docks, and watched the moon in the clear skies.

There was a cool wind tonight. It felt oddly refreshing blowing through her hair. She closed her eyes for a second to enjoy the chilled, silent Hightown alleyways.

_Oh Anders, I'm so sorry._

She still felt bad for what she did; Anders was kind and passionate at everything he stood for. But when it came to her, she did not find him inherently attractive. To be honest, she saw little of him past a good friend.

Even though he insisted otherwise, she felt a strange, awkward energy between her and Anders now. And she didn't like it. A part of her wished she had never known that he had strong feelings for her. A part of her wished he had never confessed anything to her.

She wanted to continue being friends with him without.... this. But then she'd be in greater turmoil because she wanted her friends to be honest with her. Anders had courageously told her how he felt, and she had rejected him in the most friendly, straight-forward way possible. There was really no other way it could've gone. Unless, of course, she wanted to give a relationship with Anders a try.

_But I don't like him that way. And I don't think I ever will._

She paused for a second.  _But mother would at least be pleased. She's always nagging me to find a nice, young man..._

She scoffed internally. Bah, _as if_ she would ever do anything just because her mother asked her to. She'd always done things the way she deemed appropriate.

_Damn it, why did everything seem to only get more and more complicated?_

Even after her cry, she didn't both explaining what happened between her and Fenris to Anders; he didn't need to know.

Still, she was unsure what to do and she needed help.

"Varric," she muttered under her breath.

She didn't  _want_ to divulge her drama to the dwarf any more than she already had, but he was a good listener and gave her resounding advice that she needed to hear, even if she didn't want to. He was her best friend, in a sense. 

The night was breezy and the air was refreshing.

She inhaled slowly, telling herself to calm down as she made her way towards the Docks to the Hanged Man.

_Snap._

She turned, hand on her bow instinctively.

_Snap. Snap. Snap._

The hairs on the back of her neck rose.

_Someone is following me._

"Who's there?" She called out. "Am I crashing someone's fun party?"

"You must be Olivier Marian Hawke."

She turned to find herself suddenly with unwanted company under the moonlight.

"Well, if you know my full name, something tells me you already know exactly who I am." She replied to her hostiles.

"Well met, serah." The shadowy figures walked towards her confidently, into the light for her to examine.

_Carta Thugs._

She drew her blades and gazed at them with a smirk. "Well, what a pleasant surprise. And to whom do I owe this pleasure?"

The dwarf in the front lines took out his axe and held it firmly with his two hands, replying, "Cut the jokes. You are to accompany us to the slums of Darktown immediately, on behalf of our boss."

"And who is this 'boss' that you speak of?" She asked as she readied her blades, studying the moves of her enemies slowly. If she used a flask of miasma, it would surely give her enough time...

"Come with us, and you will find out." The dwarf implied anything but amnesty. "Our boss is waiting."

"Then he can wait a while longer."

"Do not try to make this harder than it should be. I would hate to spoil the face of a pretty woman."

"Oh, was that a compliment? Or a threat? I couldn't tell." She readied herself to grab at the miasmic flask she had concealed beneath her lightweight armor.

The dwarf made no further attempts to negotiate at that point, and in a few split seconds, Hawke had at least five of their thugs stumbling around from the effects of her poison.

She moved quickly, using the musk and gas she concocted in her free time to mask her movements and whereabouts on the battlefield temporarily. It proved to be a excellent tactic she used time and time again. Her blades were not as sharp as she wanted, but they would be more than sufficient in this battle. The thugs were not a problem for her.

Her blade sliced through the arm of her red-haired assailant just as she kicked the leader against the dusty wall of the alleyway. They were no match and lay bleeding to death in the dirt. Hawke treaded towards their leader, whom clutched the wall dearly with one hand, and used his other hand to cover up the gaping wound in this side. She placed her left blade back into its sheath behind her back, and pushed the injured dwarf against the wall, pointing her retracted blade against his throat.

He whimpered softly, barely loud enough for her to hear.

"Who sent you?" She demanded from him, serious and enraged from battle. "Who would have me killed? Speak now!"

"S-Sorry! We were only paid to do it! I don't know what grudge they have!"

"Just tell me who sent you." She emphasized through her teeth. This time angrily.

"I-It was-"

" _HAWKE! Get your head down!"_

She turned down just in time to hear a whizzing noise loud and clear, followed by a hot friction near her earlobe.

Blood followed.

Then another distant, whizzing noise whistling in the opposite direction, followed by the sound of Varric reloading Bianca.

When she turned back, the dwarven leader was dead, with a arrow impaled through his mouth. The dwarf stared at her in agony, foaming a thick purple ooze from his lips. He shuddered in the most grotesque manner before he passed from the pain.

 _That arrow in his mouth. It was meant for me._ She shuddered.

"Are you alright?" Varric hurried towards her, his crossbow clinking in his arms.

She nodded at him.

"That was a close call." Varric said. "Good thing I spotted you when I did. Too bad the assassin got away though. I hope I grazed him."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't worry about it for now," She assured him. "An assassin or two can be easily taken care of."

"Um, I think you're missing a few screws, kid." Varric answered. "Did you miss the fact that _you almost just got killed_?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

"If it weren't for me."

Varric carefully grabbed the arrow on the impaled dwarf from his mouth with a gloved hand. The corpse slumped onto the ground. The purple ooze continued to pour from his orfices.

"Careful," Varric motioned her to stay back. "I don't know what this stuff is. It might be better if we just stay back."

"The why are you holding onto  _that_?" She asked, brow raised and pointing to the arrow in his hand.

"I need it." He replied, rolling the arrow in a thick canvas cloth before ticking it safely into his knapsack.

"You really think this is worth looking into? The assassin's probably long gone by now. I'm sure he's relieved that he prevented his accomplice from divulging any secrets. It was just a regular hit doled out by anyone. We've got nothing to go on, Varric."

"These assassins were specially hired. Look at their insignia -it's not the Carta this time. Besides, this isn't a poison I'm familiar with." Varric frowned, crossing his arms. "I don't know - this one feels shady, Hawke."

They started walking down the alley, disarming themselves from battle. She felt a lot safer now that she had a friend, to be honest. Perhaps this way, she no longer needed to meet Varric to talk at the Hanged Man.

"Why aren't you at least worried?" Varric asked, though his voice showed no more signs of nervousness or panic than hers did. Their nonchalant and cool attitude matched, and that was one of the reasons they had gotten along so well.

"There's little I can do now, Varric. You know that." She explained. "Besides, if I give them time, they'll come back for the completion of their mission. I'll find out what's going on then."

"True enough," Varric shrugged.

From a distance, Hawke could see another figure rush towards them. She slowed her step and prepared to pull out a dagger, when...

From out of the dark, a snowy-haired warrior stormed towards them, his blade at his back and his face scowling. 

"Fenris!" Hawke lowered her hand.

"I gave chase, but the assassin slipped into the shadows and I lost him, Varric." Fenris paused and froze in his steps at the sight of a new addition to their party:

"Hawke? What are you doing out here at this time of night?" He asked, visibly surprised.

"I could ask you the same question."


End file.
